
Class _P/£l2^^ 
Book^IlJ\ 

COPVRIGHT DEPOSrr. 






^■^ije aicatiema Scitrs of lEiigltst) Classtrs 



THE 



DE COVERLEY PAPERS 



FROM THE SPECTATOR 



EDITED BY 

SAMUEL TPIURBER 



ISoston 

ALLYN AND BACON 



I w ^ 



COPYRIGHT, 1S98, BY 
SAMUEL THURBER. 



2n 




jV^O COPIES RiCtlVED- 

Xavtoooti i3vrs3 

J. S. Cushiiip; & Co. — Berwick & Smith 

Norwood Mass. U.S.A.-^ 



CONTENTS. 



Introduction . . . . 

1. The Spectator introduces Himself. No. 1 . 

2. The Spectator Club. No. 2 . 

3. Wit versus Manners. No. 6 . . . 

4. The Spectator's Policy Discussed. No. 34 . 

5. A Fashionable Lady's Library. No. 37 

6. The Spectator at Sir Roger's. No. 106 . 

7. Sir Roger and his Dependants. No. 107 . 

8. Will Wimble. No. 108 . 

9. The Coverley Portrait Gallery. No. 109 . 

10. Haunted Houses. No. 110 

11. The Immortality of the Soul. No. Ill . 

12. Sunday in the Country. No. 112 

13. Sir Roger in Love. No. 113 . . . 

14. Tlie Importance of Economy. No. 114 

15. Hunting as an Exercise. No. 115 

16. The Spectator in the Hunting-field. No. 116 

17. Moll White, the Witch. No. 117 . 

18. How Confidants prevent the Making of Matches 

No. 118 

19. Town and Country Manners. No. 119 



PAGE 

v 

1 

6 
12 

16 
20 
25 
29 
32 
36 
40 
45 
48 
52 
57 
61 
65 
71 

75 

79 



IV 



Contents. 



20. The Moralist in the Poultry-yard. No. 120 

21. The Moralist in the Poultry-yard — {continued) 

No. 121 .... 

22. Sir Roger at the Assizes. No. 122 

23. Florio and Leonilla. No. 123 . 

24. Party-spirit. No. 125 
^ 25. Party-spirit — {co7itinued). No. 126 
X26. Sir Roger and the Gypsies. No. 130 . ^^ ^(^ 

27. The Spectator decides to return to London. No 

131 .... 
The Captain finds his Match in the Quaker. No 

132 ... . 
Sir Andrew combats Sir Roger's Prejudices. No 

The Cries of London. No. 251 



28. 

X9. 

30. 
31. 
32. 
33. 
34. 
35. 
36. 
37. 

Notes 



/ 

Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey. No. 329 
A Study of Beards. No. 331 . 
Sir Roger at the Theatre. No. 335 . 
AVill Honeycomb's Adventures. No. 359 
Sir Roger at Vauxhall Gardens. No. 383 
The Death of Sir Roger. ^No. 517 . 



PAGE 

83 

88 

93 

97 

102 

107 

111 

115 

118 

122 
127 
132 
136 
140 
143 
147 
151 
154 

159 



INTRODUCTION. 



The character of Sir Roger de Coverley is portrayed in 
less than forty papers of the Spectator, occupying in this 
volume barely a hundred and fifty pages of type, which 
may be read in an evening of pleasurable leisure. It is 
impossible to make a painful task of this reading. Writ- 
ten by Steele and Addison for the delectation of their con- 
temporaries, the Spectator continues, after the lapse of 
nearly two hundred years, to delight all people of taste; 
and the most pleasing portion of these 635 very miscel- 
laneous papers is that small group devoted to Sir Eoger. 
Excepting the critical papers on Paradise Lost, no consider- 
able number of others can be found having sufficient unity 
of theme to justify a grouping under a common rubric. 

Nor do the Sir Roger papers from the Spectator have 
much internal organic unity of development. They__give 
us but little story ; there is absolutely no plot ; they stand 
in no necessary sequence, and except that allusions would 
here and there become thereby unintelligible, even their 
order might be changed with impunity. 

These papers make, however, a very distinct impression, 
and leave us in no confusion as to the characteristics of the 
man whom the writers had in their imagination conceived. 
This distinctness of outline depends on an inner unity of 



vi Introduction. 

fidelity to an ideal consistently thought out and nobly 
planned. The writers did not add piece after piece to 
their work at random. When they came to Sir Roger, 
they knew the man they had to describe. In short, we 
have in this selection a very happy, though slight, attempt 
at character painting. Were there only a plot, and com- 
plicated relations with other characters equally well drawn, 
Addison and Steele would have given us a novel before the 
days of Fielding. 

We have, however, only the picture of Sir Roger. All 
other draughts of character are inchoate, sometimes sug- 
gesting possibilities, but never carrying possibilities to 
realization. 

The Spectator remains a miscellany of bright, humorous 
Avriting on subjects oftenest commonplace, though some- 
times rising to a noble religious fervor. The authors an- 
nounced it as their endeavor '^ to cultivate and polish human 
life, by promoting virtue and knowledge, and by recom- 
mending whatever may be either useful or ornamental to 
society." In this announcement of ^ourpose there is no 
cant. Both the writers of the Spectator were sincere men, 
and in their work they make good all their professions. 

Neither Addison nor Steele was still to learn what the 
public would take with avidity ; nor was either of them 
still to learn where his own strength lay. Only two 
months before the first number of the Spectator appeared, 
Steele had brought to an end his Tatler, after a career of 
271 numbers. In this enterprise, from the twentieth num- 
ber on, Steele had had the occasional assistance of Addison. 

In his Tatler Steele had felt his way to the form of writ- 
ing which he could best manage, and which the conditions 
of the time most clearly solicited. The essay on a moral 
or social theme, as we know it in the Spectator, was only 



Introduction. vii 

one of several features wMcli were embraced in his original 
conception. For one thing, he included in his scheme, at 
the outset, a department of news. For telling the political 
news he had special facilities, for he held the office of 
'^ gazetteer," or editor of the London Gazette, then, as now, 
the official organ of the government for the publication of 
important state transactions. The gazetteership was a pub- 
lic office, depending for its retention on the continued favor 
of the party in power. The English civil service was at 
that time as corrupt as was that of the United States before 
the reformers began their work. Politics changed, Steele's 
enemies came into power, and Steele lost his office. Hence- 
forward he could give the Tatler no special distinction by 
publishing news. But in the light, witty, satirical essay, 
touching upon social foibles, Steele had, during his editor- 
ship of the Tatler, found himself very much at home. In 
this field he was unrivalled, except by the man who, join- 
ing the enterprise as a loyal coadjutor, helped him to the 
achievement of a fame far greater than he could have 
attained alone. The Tatler, therefore, before Steele 
brought it to an end in the beginning of 1711, had 
become such a paper that the Spectator followed it natur- 
ally, and without essential change of plan. 

Not only had Steele sounded the public taste and found 
the bent of his own genius ; he had secured a partner of 
greater literary skill than himself. Very generously he 
recognizes the primacy of Addison in their joint enterprise. 
"I have," says he, "only one gentleman, who will be name- 
less, to thank for any frequent assistance to me, which in- 
deed it would have been barbarous in him to have denied to 
one with whom he has lived in an intimacy from childhood, 
considering the great ease with which he is able to dispatch 
the most entertaining pieces of this nature. This good office 



viii Introduction. 

he performed witli such force of genius, humor, wit, and 
learning, that I fared like a distressed prince, who calls in a 
powerful neighbor to his aid ; I was undone by my auxiliary ) 
when I had once called him in, I could not subsist without 
dependence on him." Thus does Steele speak in closing the 
Tatler. 

How the two writers apportioned their Avork cannot now 
be known. No system or plan of dividing the responsibility 
is perceptible. Probably there was none. The truth would 
seem to be that Steele was known as the responsible editor, 
on whom devolved the ultimate care of providing copy, 
while the position of Addison was that of a generous con- 
tributor, whose aid was so abundant that the editorial func- 
tion, though by no means a sinecure or a secondary affair, 
was always relieved from anxiety. AVe can hardly conceive 
Steele as rejecting or correcting anything from Addison. 
Almost as little likely is it that Addison ever complained 
of Steele. If the men worked in nnbroken harmony, this 
happy union will have to be ascribed chiefly to the large 
heart and good nature of Steele, and in an inferior degree 
to the courte^^ and high breeding of Addison. Both 
were lovable men; but Steele was the more capable of for- 
bearance, the readier to pardon, the less liable to give 
offence. 

The methods employed by Addison and Steele to render 
their essays an effective agency for the moral improvement 
of society should be carefully noted. It was plainly an 
absolute necessity, if the essays were to be widely read, that 
they should be interesting. The public of that day had its 
own peculiar tastes, largely inherited from the time of the 
Restoration. These tastes were vicious, and Avere in fact 
precisely the thing that was to be corrected. To sermons 
and pamphlets the public was quite too thoroughly used. 



Introduction. ix 

These instrumentalities had exhausted their efficacy as 
means of reaching the polite, pleasure-loving classes. Some- 
thing very unlike a sermon, very unlike a partisan pamphlet, 
was evidently called for by the situation. Here were possi- 
ble readers in plenty, ready to laugh with a humorist or a 
wit, — prepared to relish satire directed against even their 
own foibles and extravagances, provided only the satire was 
amusing. The writer who purposed to get a hearing in this 
class must obviously meet it half way. He must not seem 
too serious, too lofty in his professions. Only in dealing 
directly with religion and religious institutions could he be 
pardoned for assuming the solemn tone. He must be per- 
petually in good humor, always urbane, never above the 
level of his readers. Hence he must avoid squeamishness 
in language, speak in the usual manner of his time, and use 
the freedom and breadth of illustration that everybody ex- 
pected. In short, he must make his essays light, joyous, 
provoking; and while the moral was always present, and 
plainly deducible, its reception must be provided for by 
bringing readers into a pleased and receptive mood. 

Earnest whigs as Addison and Steele notp.bly were, they 
saw that their paper would utterly miss its aim if it became 
known as a partisan enterprise. Its attitude towards politics 
is the attitude of a censor, not of any political doctrine, but 
of all political bitterness of feeling. Even the most sple- 
netic tories loved Addison, and welcomed the Spectator 
without misgiving. 

Then the writers of the Spectator understood perfectly 
that their paper could not dispense with the favor of women. 
They meant it should go into homes, there be read aloud 
and laughed over, assured that what was talked about at 
the tea-table would make an impression on minds and win 
regard. 



X Introduction, 

Thus it comes to pass that the Spectator is a collection of 
essays i^revailingiy light and . merry, but often becoming 
nobly serious and directly didactic. TheijL,.clli^|_literary 
characteristic is their humor, which still gives them distinc- 
tion, and makes them eminently readable. This humor is 
fine and subtle ; rarely, at least in the hands of Addison, 
broad or too obvious. Young readers are apt to miss, now 
and then, the point of Addison's humor. 

The style, both of Addison and Steele, is wonderfully 
free and rapid, suggesting ease of composition, as was in- 
deed befitting in a paper published every day. In reading 
the English of the Spectator, you are borne on through a 
simple and lucid syntax that asks no more mental effort 
than does the conversation of cultivated men and women. 
Their themes being generally commonplace, these essayists 
do not task the attention or the understanding. Above all 
things, they desired to be read by a great multitude of 
cultivated persons ; and to be read rather as the occupa- 
tion of leisure than as material for criticism. Caring not 
to attain, either in their grammar or in their rhetoric, a cor- 
rectness which their contemporaries would not have appre- 
ciated, they proceeded directly, and without artifices of 
speech, to the happiest possible expression of whatever 
they had to communicate. 

The essays which are concerned with Sir Eoger de Cover- 
ley as their main theme, are barely twenty in number. The 
greater part of these were written during that memorable 
July, — the fifth month of the Spectator's existence, — 
which the mysterious personage whom we call Mr. Spec- 
tator, and who figures as the author of all the papers, is 
represented as having passed at Sir Roger's country-seat 
in Worcestershire. For the purposes of the rest Sir Roger 



Introduction, * xi 

is brought to town. But besides the papers devoted to Sir 
Eoger de Coverley as their main theme, many others make 
allusions to him and his humors in one way or another, and 
furnish more or less occasion for inclusion in a Sir Eoger 
series. It is not easy to draw the line. This collection 
presents thirty-seven papers, in all of which the Knight is 
at least mentioned; but many more might have been found 
having equal claim with these for admission under the de 
Coverley title. But these thirty -seven papers seemed to 
be enough for the purposes of the book, and it was neces- 
sary to stop somewhere at last, however appropriate and 
abundant the matter that might have been added. 

In accordance with the taste of their time, the authors 
of the Spectator introduced each paper with a motto quoted 
from a Greek or Latin writer. These mottoes they did not 
translate. The use of them was merely conventional, indi- 
cating, on the part of the essayists, a profession of culture, 
or, as they called it in those days, of learning ; just as cer- 
tain articles of apparel have always, in English society, 
been deemed the peculiar and necessary note of the gen- 
tleman. The Spectator's mottoes seldom add any real 
piquancy to the essays. In the editions published since 
the earliest ones it has become customary to append trans- 
lations to the Latin and Greek quotations. In this volume 
such translations will be found in the notes. 

Of the thirty-seven papers in this selection twenty-five 
are by Addison, nine by Steele, and three by Budgell. The 
last named writer gets his entire distinction in English 
literature from the fact tliat, under the patronage, and 
perhaps with the help, of Addison, he Avas allowed to con- 
tribute to the Spectator about one-seventeenth of all the 
numbers. His papers bear a general resemblance in style 
to those of Addison. 



xii Introduction. 

While working at this selection from the papers of the 
Spectator, the class will have frequent occasion to consult 
the writers' complete works. A complete Addison and a 
complete Spectator and Tatler should lie on the table for 
easy reference during the time devoted to this period of 
literature. Two editions of Addison's works are accessible, 
— that of Bishop Hurd, enlarged by Henry G. Bohn, pub- 
lished in six volumes, in the Bohn Standard Library, by 
Macmillan & Co., and the edition, also in six volumes, of 
Professor George Washington Greene, published by J. B. 
Lippincott & Co. 

The Spectator can be had in numerous shapes. Chiefly to 
be recommended is the edition in eight volumes, edited by 
G. Gregory Smith, and now publishing by Charles Scribner's 
Sons. Good also is the edition of Professor Henry Morley 
in three volumes, published by Eoutledge & Sons. The 
Spectator, Tatler, and Guardian are included in the series 
of British Essayists, edited by A. Chalmers. 

Books and articles, bearing directly on Addison and 
Steele and their writings, will be found in endless profu- 
sion. Macaulay's essay on Addison is perhaps to be named 
first. The Life of Addison by Miss Aikin, Avhich Macaulay 
criticises, is republished in this country, and may easily be 
looked up in the libraries. Still more accessible is Mr. 
Courthope's Addison, in the English Men of Letters series. 
In 1889 appeared the Life of K-ichard Steele by George A. 
Aitken. This handsome book, in two octavo volumes, will 
be found valuable for reference. It contains interesting 
portraits. Much smaller is Austin Dobson's Steele in the 
English Worthies series. A book not yet quite superseded 
by all the literary researches of three generations is Nathan 
Drake's Essays, biographical, critical, and historical, illustra- 
tive of the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, London, 1805. 



Introduction. xiii 

The book entitled Addisoniana, published in two small vol- 
umes in 1803, will be found worth looking up. It contains 
a curious portrait of " Mr. Addison at Button's." With a 
little enterprise pupils will hunt up many portraits of 
Addison and Steele. A school girl succeeded in getting a 
portrait of the Countess of Warwick, the lady whom Addi- 
son married. 

On the manners and customs of the eighteenth century, 
the student will find useful and interesting, either for casual 
consultation or for continuous reading, England and the Eng- 
lish in the Eighteenth Century, by William Connor Sydney, 
Macmillan & Co., 1891. Still more interesting, by reason of 
its numerous illustrations, is Social Life in the Reign of 
Queen Anne, by John Ashton, Chatto & Windus, 1882. 

On the general history of Addison's times the reader will 
naturally refer to Macaulay's History, so far as this ex- 
tends, and should learn to refer to the index to the Essays 
even for eighteenth century matters not reached by the His- 
tory. Charles Knight's Popular History of England is a 
book that every high school should possess. Its pictures 
and its frequent reference to social and literary matters 
make it a work of supreme interest to youth. A most ex- 
cellent book, both for reading and for handy reference on 
all topics of English history, is Samuel Rawson Gardiner's 
Student's History of England. Every high school should 
have this work. 

Of all thinkable books of reference, perhaps the most 
important to the student, either of history or of literature, 
is the Dictionary of National Biography, still publishing, 
and now (May, 1898) so far advanced in the alphabet as to 
include Steele. Fortunate the school that possesses this 
work. It presents the lives of writers on just the scale 
required by the general student. This scale is large enough 



xiv Introduction. 

to make the book most interesting to read as well as to 
consult. 

Merely verbal difficulties in texts no older than the Spec- 
tator are usually explained by the larger dictionaries. When 
all the common dictionaries fail, then the Century should be 
tried. When the Century fails, then you must go to the 
New English Dictionary of Dr. Murra}^, if this has ad- 
vanced far enough to meet your case. At present the 
letters A-F are completed, and a good beginning is made on 
G and H. 

S. T. 

, May, 1898. 



THE SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 
FROM THE SPECTATOR. 



:>>9<c 



Spectator No. i. Thursday, March 1, 1711: — The Spectator 
introduces himself to the reader. 

Non fiimum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem 
Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula proniat. 

HOR. ARS POET. 143, 

I HAVE observed, that a reader seldom peruses a book with 
pleasure, till he knows whether the writer of it be a black 
or a fair man, of a mild or choleric disposition, married or 
a bachelor, with other particulars of the like nature, that 
conduce very much to the right understanding of an author. 
To gratify this curiosity, which is so natural to a reader, I 
design this paper and my next as prefatory discourses to 
my following writings, and shall give some account in them 
of the several persons that are engaged in this work. As 
the chief trouble of compiling, digesting, and correcting, 
will fall to my share, I must do myself the justice to open 
the work with my own history. 

I was born to a small hereditary estate, which, according 
to the tradition of the village where it lies, was bounded 
by the same hedges and ditches in William the Conqueror's 
time that it is at present, and has been delivered down 

1 



2 The Sir Roger cle Coverley Papers. 

from father to son, whole and entire, without the loss or 
acquisition of a single field or meadow, during the space of 
six hundred years. There runs a story in the family, that 
my mother dreamed that her child was destined to be a 
judge. Whether this might proceed from a lawsuit which 
was then depending in the family, or my father's being a 
justice of the peace, I cannot determine; for I am not so 
vain as to think it presaged any dignity that I should 
arrive at in my future life, though that was the interpreta- 
tion which the neighborhood put upon it. The gravity of 
my behavior at my very first ap]Dearance in the world, and 
at the time that I sucked, seemed to favor my mother's 
dream: for, as she has often told me, I threw away my 
rattle before I was two months old, and would not make 
use of my coral until they had taken away the bells from it. 

As for the rest of my infancy, there being nothing in it 
remarkable, I shall pass it over in silence. I find, that 
during my nonage, I had the reputation of a very sullen 
youth, but was always a favorite of my schoolmaster, who 
used to say "that my parts were solid, and would wear 
well." I had not been long at the university before I dis- 
tinguished myself by a most profound silence; for, during 
the space of eight years, excepting in the public exercises 
of the college, I scarce uttered the quantity of a hundred 
words ; and indeed do not remember that I ever spoke three 
sentences together in my whole life. Whilst I was in this 
learned body, I applied myself with so much diligence to 
my studies, that there are very few celebrated books, either 
in the learned or the modern tongues, which I am not 
acquainted with. 

Upon the death of my father I was resolved to travel 
into foreign countries, and therefore left the university with 
the character of an odd unaccountable fellow, that had a 



The Spectator mtroduces Himself. 3 

great deal of learning, if I would but show it. An insatia- 
ble thirst after knowledge carried me into all the countries 
of Europe, in which there was anything new or strange to 
be seen; nay, to such a degree was my curiosity raised, 
that, having read the controversies of some great men con- 
cerning the antiquities of Egypt, I made a voyage to Grand 
Cairo, on purpose to take the measure of a x^yramid; and, 
as soon as I had set myself right in that particular, returned 
to my native country with great satisfaction. 

I have passed my latter years in this city, where I am 
frequently seen in most public places, though there are not 
above half a dozen of my select friends that know me ; of 
whom my next paper shall give a more particular account. 
There is no place of general resort wherein I do not often 
make my appearance : sometimes I am seen thrusting my 
head into a round of politicians at Will's, and listening 
with great attention to the narratives that are made in 
those little circular audiences; sometimes I smoke a pipe 
at Child's, and, while I seem attentive to nothing but the 
Postman, overhear the conversation of every table in the 
room. I appear on Sunday nights at St. James's coffee- 
house, and sometimes join the little committee of politics 
in the inner room, as one who comes there to hear and 
improve. My face is likewise very well known at the 
Grecian, the Cocoa Tree, and in the theatres both of Drury 
Lane and the Haymarket. I have been taken for a mer- 
chant upon the exchange for above these ten years, and 
sometimes pass for a Jew in the assembly of stock-jobbers 
at Jonathan's. In short, wherever I see a cluster of people, 
I always mix with them, though I never open my lips but 
in my own club. 

Thus I lived in the world rather as a Spectator of man- 
kind, than as one of the species; by which means I have 



4 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

made myself a speculative statesman, soldier, mercliaiit, 
and artisan, without ever meddling with any practical part 
in life. I am very well versed in the theory of a husband 
or a father, and can discern the errors in the economy, 
business, and diversion of others, better than those who 
are engaged in them ; as standers-by discover blots which 
are apt to escax)e those who are in the game. I never 
espoused any party with violence, and am resolved to ob- 
serve an exact neutrality between the Whigs and Tories, 
unless I shall be forced to declare myself by the hostilities 
of either side. In short, T have acted in all the parts of 
my life as a looker-on, which is the character I intend to 
preserve in this paper. 

I have given the reader just so much of my history and 
character, as to let him see I am not altogether unqualified 
for the business I have undertaken. As for other particu- 
lars in my life and adventures, I shall insert them in fol- 
lowing papers, as I shall see occasion. In the meantime, 
when I consider how much I have seen, read, and heard, I 
begin to blame my own taciturnity; and since I have neither 
time nor inclination to communicate the fulness of my heart 
and speech, I am resolved to do it in writing, and to print 
myself out, if possible, before I die. I have been often told 
by my friends, that it is a pity so many useful discoveries 
which I have made should be in the possession of a silent 
man. Eor this reason, therefore, I shall publish a sheet 
full of thoughts every morning, for the benefit of my con- 
temporaries; and if I can any way contribute to the diver- 
sion or improvement of the country in which I live, I shall 
leave it, when I am summoned out of it, with the secret 
satisfaction of thinking that I have not lived in vain. 

There are three very material points which I have not 
spoken to in this paper; and which, for several important 



The Spectator introduces Himself. 5 

reasons, I must keep to myself, at least for some time; I 
mean an account of my name, my age, and my lodgings. 
I must confess, I Avould gratify my reader in anything that 
is reasonable ; but as for these three particulars, though I 
am sensible they might tend very much to the embellish- 
ment of my paper, I cannot yet come to a resolution of 
communicating them to the public. They would indeed 
draw me out of that obscurity which I have enjoyed for 
many 3^ears, and expose me in public places to several 
salutes and civilities, which have been always very dis- 
agreeable to me ; for the greatest pain I can suffer, is the 
being talked to, and being stared at. It is for this reason, 
likewise, that I keep my complexion and dress as very 
great secrets; though it is not impossible but I may make 
discoveries of both in the progress of the work I have 
undertaken. 

After having been thus particular upon myself, I shall 
in to-morrow's paper give an account of those gentlemen 
who are concerned with me in this work; for, as I have 
before intimated, a plan of it is laid and concerted (as all 
other matters of importance are) in a club. However, as 
my friends have engaged me to stand in the front, those 
who have a mind to correspond with me may direct their 
letters to the Spectator, at Mr. Buckley's, in Little Britain: 
for I must further acquaint the reader, that though our 
club meets only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have 
appointed a committee to sit every night for the inspection 
of all such papers as ma}'' contribute to the advancement of 
the public weal. — Addison. 



The Sir Roger de Coverley Paper's. 



Spectator No. 2. Friday, March 2, Vill\—The Spectator Club: 
Sir Roger de Coverley, The Templar, Sir Andrew Freeport, Captain 
Sentry, Will Honeycomb, the Clergyman. 



- Ast alii sex 



Et plures, uno conclamant or( 



juv. SAT. vii. 167. 



The first of our society is a gentleman of Worcestershire, 
of an ancient descent, a baronet, his name Sir Roger de 
Coverley. His great grandfather was inventor of that 
famous country-dance which is called after him. All who 
know that shire are very well acquainted with the parts 
and merits of Sir Roger. He is a gentleman that is very 
singular in his behavior, but his singularities proceed from 
his good sense, and are contradictions to the manners of the 
world, only as he thinks the world is in the wrong. How- 
ever, this humor creates him no enemies, for he does 
nothing with sourness or obstinacy; and his being uncon- 
fined to modes and forms, makes him but the readier and 
more capable to please and oblige all who know him. 
When he is in town he lives in Soho Square. It is said, 
he keeps himself a bachelor by reason he was crossed in 
love by a perverse beautiful widow of the next county to 
him. Before this disappointment Sir Roger was what you 
call a fine gentleman, had often supped 'with my Lord 
Rochester and Sir George Etheridge, fought a duel upon 
his first coming to town, and kicked bully Dawson in a 
public coffee-house for calling him j^oungster. But being 
ill used by the above-mentioned widow, he was very serious 
for a year and a half; and though, his temper being natur- 
ally jovial, he at last got over it, he grew careless of him- 
self, and never dressed afterwards. He continues to wear 
a coat and doublet of the same cut that Avere in fashion at 



The Spectator Club. 7 

the time of his repulse, which, in his merry humor, he 
tells us, has been in and out twelve times since he first wore 
it. He is now in his fifty-sixth year, cheerful, gay, and 
hearty; keeps a good house both in town and country; a 
great lover of mankind ; but there is such a mirthful cast in 
his behavior, that he is rather beloved than esteemed. 

His tenants grow rich, his servants look satisfied, all the 
young women profess love to him, and the young men are 
glad of his company. When he comes into a house he calls 
the servants by their names, and talks all the way up stairs 
to a visit. I must not omit, that Sir Koger is a justice of 
the quorum; that he fills the chair at a quarter-session with 
great abilities; and three months ago, gained universal 
applause, by explaining a passage in the Game Act. J 

The gentleman next in esteem and authority among us is 
another bachelor, who is a member of the Inner Temple; a 
man of great probity, wit, and understanding; but he has 
chosen his place of residence rather to obey the direction of 
an old humorsome father, than in pursuit of his own in- 
clinations. He was placed there to study the laws of the 
land, and is the most learned of any of the house in those 
of the stage. Aristotle and Longinus are much better 
understood by him than Littleton or Coke. The father 
sends up every post questions relating to marriage articles, 
leases, and tenures in the neighborhood; all which ques- 
tions he agrees with an attorney to answer and take care 
of in the lump. He is studying the passions themselves, 
when he should be inquiring into the debates among men 
which arise from them. He knows the argument of each 
of the orations of Demosthenes and Tully, but not one case 
in the reports of our own courts. No one ever took him for 
a fool; but none, except his intimate friends, know he has 
a great d^al of wit. This turn makes him at once both dis- 



8 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

interested and agreeable. As few of his thoughts are drawn 
from business, they are most of them fit for conversation. 
His taste of books is a little too just for the age he lives in ; 
he has read all, but approves of very few. His familiarity 
with the customs, manners, actions, and writings of the 
ancients, makes him a very delicate observer of what occurs 
to him in the present world. He is an excellent critic, and 
the time of the play is his hour of business ; exactly at five 
he passes through New Inn, crosses through Eussell Court, 
and takes a turn at WilPs till the play begins; he has his 
shoes rubbed and his periwig powdered at the barber's as 
you go into the Rose. It is for the good of the audience 
when he is at a play, for the actors have an ambition to 
please him. 

The person of next consideration is Sir Andrew Freeport, 
a merchant of great eminence in the city of London : a per- 
son of indefatigable industry, strong reason, and great ex- 
perience. His notions of trade are noble and generous, and 
(as every rich man has usually some sly way of jesting, 
which would make no great figure Avere he not a rich man) 
he calls the sea the British Common. He is acquainted 
with commerce in all its parts, and will tell you that it is 
a stupid and barbarous way to extend dominion by arms; 
for true power is to be got by arts and industry. He will 
often argue, that if this part of our trade were well cul- 
tivated, we should gain from one nation; and if another, 
from another. I have heard him prove, that diligence 
makes more lasting acquisitions than valor, and that sloth 
has ruined more nations than the sword. He abounds in 
several frugal maxims, amongst which the greatest favorite 
is, "A penny saved is a penny got." A general trader of 
good sense is pleasanter company than a general scholar; 
and Sir Andrew having a natural unaffected elo(Jience, the 



The Spectator Cluh, 9 

perspicuity of his discourse gives the same pleasure that 
wit woukl in another man. He has made his fortunes him- 
self; and says, that England may be richer than other 
kingdoms, hj as plain methods as he himself is richer than 
other men; though at the same time I can say this of him, 
that there is not a point in the compass, but blows home a 
ship in which he is an owner. 

Next to Sir Andrew in the club-room sits Captain Sentry, 
a gentleman of great courage, good understanding, but in- 
vincible modesty. He is one of those that deserve very 
well, but are very awkward at putting their talents within 
the observation of such as should take notice of them. He 
was some years a captain, and behaved himself with great 
gallantry in several engagements, and at several sieges; 
but having a small estate of his own, and being next heir 
to Sir Roger, he has quitted a way of life in which no man 
can rise suitably to his merit, who is not something of a 
courtier, as well as a soldier. I have heard him often 
lament, that in a profession where merit is placed in so 
conspicuous a view, impudence should get the better of 
modesty. When he has talked to this purpose, I never 
heard him make a sour expression, but frankly confess that 
he left the world, because he was not fit for it. A strict 
honest}^ and an even regular behavior, are in themselves 
obstacles to him that must press through crowds, who en- 
deavor at the same end with himself, the favor of a com- 
mander. He will, however, in his way of talk, excuse 
generals, for not disposing according to men's desert, or 
inquiriug into it; for, says he, that great man who has a 
mind to help me, has as many to break through to come at 
me, as I have to come at him: therefore he will conclude, 
that the man who would make a figure, especially in a mili- 
tary way, must get over all false modesty, and assist his 



10 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

patron against tlie importunity of other pretenders, by a 
proper assurance in his own vindication. He says it is a 
civil cowardice to be backward in asserting what you ought 
to expect, as it is a military fear to be slow in attacking 
when it is your duty. With this candor does the gentle- 
man speak of himself and others. The same frankness 
runs through all his conversation. The military part of 
his life has furnished him with many adventures, in the 
relation of which he is very agreeable to the company ; for 
he is never overbearing, though accustomed to command 
men in the utmost degree below him; nor ever too obse- 
quious, from an habit of obeying men highly above him. 

But that our society may not appear a set of humorists, 
unacquainted with the gallantries and pleasures of the age, 
we have among us the gallant Will Honej^comb, a gentle- 
man who, according to his years, should be in the decline 
of his life; but having ever been very careful of his person, 
and always had a very easy fortune, time has made but 
very little impression, either by wrinkles on his forehead, 
or traces in his brain. His person is well turned, and of 
a good height. He is very ready at that sort of discourse 
with which men usually entertain women. He has all his 
life dressed very well, and remembers habits as others do 
men. He can smile when one speaks to him, and laughs 
easily. He knows the history of every mode, and can 
inform you from which of the French court-ladies our 
wives and daughters had this manner of curling their hair, 
that way of placing their hoods ; who wore such a sort of 
petticoat, and whose vanity to show her foot made that part 
of the dress so short in such a year. In a word, all his con- 
versation and knowledge has been in the female world. As 
other men of his age will take notice to you what such a 
minister said upon such and such an occasion, he will tell 



The Spectator Cluh. 11 

you when the Duke of Monmouth danced at court, such a 
woman was then smitten, another was taken with him at 
the head of his troops in the park. In all these important 
relations, he has ever about the same time received a kind 
glance, or a blow of a fan, from some celebrated beauty, 
mother of the present Lord Such-a-one. This way of talk- 
ing of his, very much enlivens the conversation among us 
of a more sedate turn; and I find there is not one of the 
company, but myself, who rarely speak at all, but speaks 
of him as of that sort of man, who is usually called a well- 
bred tine gentleman. To conclude his character, where 
women are not concerned, he is an honest worthy man. 

I cannot tell whether I am to account him, whom I am 
next to speak of, as one of our company; for he visits us 
but seldom, but when he does, it adds to every man else a 
new enjoyment of himself. He is a clergyman, a very 
philosophic man, of general learning, great sanctity of life, 
and the most exact good breeding. He has the misfortune 
to be of a very weak constitution, and consequently cannot 
accept of such cares and business as preferments in his 
function would oblige him to ; he is therefore among divines, 
what a chamber-counsellor is among lawyers. The probity 
of his mind, and the integrity of his life, create him fol- 
lowers, as being eloquent or loud advances others. He 
seldom introduces the subject he speaks upon ; but we are 
so far gone in years, that he observes when he is among us, 
an earnestness to have him fall on some divine topic, which 
he always treats with much authority, as one who has no 
interests in this world, as one who is hastening to the object 
of all his wishes, and conceives hope from his decays and 
infirmities. These are my ordinary companions. — Steele. 



12 The Sir Roger de Coverlet/ Papers. 



Spectator No. 6. Wednesday, March 7, 1711: — Sir Roger dis- 
courses of the relative importance of wit and virtue. 

Credebaut hoc grande nefas, et morte piandura, 

Si juvenis vetulo non assurrexerat 

.Tuv. SAT. xiii. 54. 

I KNOW no evil under the sun so great as the abuse of the 
understanding, and yet there is no one vice more common. 
It has diffused itself through both sexes, and. all qualities 
of mankind ; and there is hardly that person to be found, 
who is not more concerned for the reputation of wit and 
sense, than of honesty and virtue. But this unhappy affec- 
tation of being wise rather than honest, witty than good 
natured, is the source of most of the ill habits of life. 
Such false impressions are owing to the abandoned writings 
of men of wit, and the awkward imitation of the rest of 
mankind. 

For this reason. Sir Roger was saying last night, that he 
was of opinion none but men of hue parts deserve to be 
hanged. The reflections of such men are so delicate upon 
all occurrences which they are concerned in, that they 
should be exposed to more than ordinary infamy and pun- 
ishment, for offending against such quick admonitions as 
their own souls give them, and blunting the fine edge of 
their minds in such a manner, that they are no more shocked 
at vice and folly than men of slower capacities. There is 
no greater monster in being, than a very ill man of great 
parts. He lives like a man in a palsy, with one side of 
him dead. While perhaps he enjoys the satisfaction of 
luxury, of wealth, of ambition, he has lost the taste of good 
will, of friendship, of innocence. Scarecrow, the beggar in 
Lincoln's Inn Fields, who disabled himself in his right leg, 
and asks alms all day to get himself a warm supper at 



Wit versus Manners, 13 

night, is not half so despicable a wretch as such a man of 
sense. The beggar has no relish above sensations, he finds 
rest more agreeable than motion ; and while he has a warm 
fire, never reflects that he deserves to be whipped. Every- 
man who terminates his satisfactions and enjoyments within 
the supply of his own necessities and passions, is, says Sir 
Roger, in my eye, as poor a rogue as Scarecrow. "But," 
continued he, " for the loss of public and private virtue we 
are beholden to your men of fine parts forsooth : it is with 
them no matter what is done, so it be done with an air. 
But to me, who am so whimsical in a corrupt age as to act 
according to nature and reason, a selfish man, in the most 
shining circumstance and equipage, appears in the same 
condition with the fellow above-mentioned, but more con- 
temptible in proportion to what more he robs the public of, 
and enjoys above him. I lay it down therefore for a rule, 
that the whole man is to move together ; that every action 
of any importance is to have a prospect of public good ; and 
that the general tendency of our indifferent actions ought 
to be agreeable to the dictates of reason, of religion, of 
good breeding; without this, a man, as I have before hinted, 
is hopping instead of walking, he is not in his entire and 
proper motion." 

While the honest knight was thus bewildering himself 
in good starts, I looked attentively upon him, which made 
him, I thought, collect his mind a little. "What I am at," 
says he, " is to represent, that I am of opinion, to polish 
our understandings, and neglect our manners, is of all things 
the most inexcusable. Reason should govern passion, but 
instead of that, you see, it is often subservient to it; and, 
as unaccountable as one would think it, a wise man is not 
always a good man." This degeneracy is not only the guilt 
of particular persons, but also at some times of a whole 



14 The Sir Roger de Covevley Papers. 

people; and perhaps it may appear upon examination, that 
the most polite ages are the least virtuous. This may be 
attributed to the folly of admitting wit and learning as 
merit in themselves, without considering the application of 
them. By this means it becomes a rule not so much to 
regard what we do, as how we do it. But tbis false beauty 
will not pass upon men of honest minds and true taste. Sir 
Richard Blackmore says, with as much good sense as virtue, 
"It is a mighty shame and dishonor to employ excellent 
faculties and abundance of wit, to humor and x^lease men 
in their vices and follies. The great enemy of mankind, 
notwithstanding his wit and angelic faculties, is the most 
odious being in the whole creation. " He goes on soon after 
to say very generously, that he undertook the writing of 
his poem " to rescue the Muses out of the hands of ravishers, 
to restore them to their sweet and chaste mansions, and to 
engage them in an employment suitable to their dignity." 
This certainly ought to be the purpose of every man who 
appears in public; and whoever does not proceed upon that 
foundation, injures his country as fast as he succeeds in his 
studies. When modesty ceases to be the chief ornament of 
one sex, and integrity of the other, society is upon a wrong 
basis, and we shall be ever after without rules to guide 
our judgment in what is really becoming and ornamental. 
Nature and reason direct one thing, passion and humor 
another. To follow the dictates of these two la,tter, is 
going into a road that is both endless and intricate; when 
we pursue the other, our passage is delightful, and what 
we aim at easily attainable. 

I do not doubt but England is at present as polite a nation 
as any in the world; but any man who thinks can easily 
see, that the affectation of being gay and in fashion has 
very near eaten up our good sense and our religion. Is 



Wit versus Manners. 15 

there anything so just, as that mode and gallantry should 
be built upon exerting ourselves in what is proper and 
agreeable to the institutions of justice and piety among us? 
And yet is there anything more common, than that we run 
in perfect contradiction to them? All which is supported 
by no other pretension, than that it is done with what we 
call a good grace. 

Nothing ought to be held laudable or becoming, but what 
nature itself should prompt us to think so. Respect to all 
kind of superiors is founded, I think, upon instinct; and 
yet what is so ridiculous as age? I make this abrupt transi- 
tion to the mention of this vice more than any other, in 
order to introduce a little story, which I think a pretty 
instance, that the most polite age is in danger of being the 
most vicious. 

" It happened at Athens, during a public representation 
of some play exhibited in honor of the commonwealth, 
that an old gentleman came too late for a place suitable to 
his age and quality. Many of the young gentlemen who 
observed the difficulty and confusion he was in, made signs 
to him that they would accommodate him if he came where 
they sat. The good man bustled through the crowd accord- 
ingly; but when he came to the seats to which he was 
invited, the jest was to sit close and expose him, as he 
stood, out of countenance, to the whole audience. The 
frolic went round the Athenian benches. But on those 
occasions there were also particular places assigned for 
foreigners. When the good man skulked towards the boxes 
appointed for the Lacedemonians, that honest people, more 
virtuous than polite, rose up all to a man, and with the 
greatest respect received him among them. The Athenians 
being suddenly touched with a sense of the Spartan virtue, 
and their own degeneracy, gave a thunder of applause; and 



•^ » 



16 The Sir Roger de Coverleij Papers. 

the old man cried out, 'The Athenians understand what is 
good, but the Lacedemonians practise it.' " — Steele, 



Spectator No. 34. Mondai/, Ajml 9, 1711: — Members of the club 
discuss the Spectator's jmpers. 

parcit 

Cognatis maculis similis fera. 

JUV. SAT. XV. 159. 

The club of which I am a member, is very luckily com- 
posed of such persons as are engaged in different ways of 
life, and deputed as it were out of the most conspicuous 
classes of mankind. By this means I am furnished with 
the greatest variety of hints and materials, and know every- 
thing that passes in the different quarters and divisions, 
not only of this great city, but of the whole kingdom. My 
readers too have the satisfaction to find, that there is no 
rank or degree among them who have not their representa- 
tive in this club, and that there is always somebody present 
who will take care of their respective interests, that nothing 
may be written or published to the prejudice or infringe- 
ment of their just rights and privileges. 

I last night sat ver}^ late in company with this select 
body of friends, who entertained me with several remarks 
which they and others had made upon these my specula- 
tions, as also with the various success which they had met 
with among their several ranks and degrees of readers. 
Will Honeycomb told me, in the softest manner he could, 
that there were some ladies (but for your comfort, says 
Will, they are not those of the most wit) tliat were offended 
at the liberties I had taken with the opera and the puppet- 
show ; that some of them were likewise very much surprised 



The Spectator'' s Policy Discussed. 17 

that I sliould think such serious points as the dress and 
equipage of persons of quality proper subjects for raillery. 

He was going on, when Sir Andrew Freeport took him 
up short, and told him, that the papers he hinted at, had 
done great good in the city, and that all their wives and 
daughters were the better for them; and further added, 
that the whole city thought themselves very much obliged 
to me for declaring my generous intentions to scourge vice 
and folly as they appear in a multitude, without conde- 
scending to be a publisher of particular intrigues and 
infidelities. "In short," says Sir Andrew, "if you avoid 
that foolish beaten road of falling upon aldermen and citi- 
zens, and employ your pen upon the vanity and luxury of 
courts, your paper must needs be of general use." 

Upon this my friend the Templar told Sir Andrew, that 
he wondered to hear a man of his sense talk after that 
manner; that the city had always been the province for 
satire ; and that the wits of King Charles's time jested upon 
nothing else during his whole reign. He then showed, by 
the examples of Horace, Juvenal, Boileau, and the best 
writers of every age, that the follies of the stage and court 
had never been accounted too sacred for ridicule, how great 
soever the persons might be»that patronized them. "But, 
after all," says he, "I think your raillery has made too 
great an excursion, in attacking several persons of the 
inns of court; and I do not believe you can show me any 
precedent for your behavior in that particular." 

My good friend. Sir Koger de Coverley, who had said 
nothing all this while, began his speech with a Pish ! and 
told us, that he wondered to see so many men of sense so 
very serious upon fooleries. "Let our good friend," says 
he, "attack every one that deserves it; I would only advise 
you, Mr. Spectator," applying himself to me, "to take care 



18 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

how you meddle with countiy squires. They are the orna- 
ments of the English nation ; men of good heads and sound 
bodies ! and let me tell you, some of them take it ill of you, 
that you mention fox-hunters with so little respect." 

Captain Sentry spoke very sparingly on this occasion. 
What he said was only to commend my prudence in not 
touching upon the army, and advised me to continue to act 
discreetly in that point. 

By this time I found every subject of my speculations 
was taken away from me, by one or other of the club; and 
began to think myself in the condition of the good man 
that had one wife who took a dislike to his gray hairs, and 
another to his black, till by their picking out what each of 
them had an aversion to, they left his head altogether bald 
and naked. 

While I was thus musing with myself, my Avorthy friend 
the clergyman, who, very luckily for me, was at the club 
that night, undertook my cause. He told us, that he won- 
dered any order of persons should think themselves too 
considerable to be advised. That it was not quality, but 
innocence, which exempted men from reproof. That vice 
and folly ought to be attacked wherever they could be met 
with, and especially when th^ are placed in high and con- 
spicuous stations in life. He further added, that my paper 
would only serve to aggravate the pains of poverty, if it 
chiefly exposed those who are already depressed, and in 
some measure turned into ridicule, by the meanness of their 
conditions and circumstances. He afterwards proceeded to 
take notice of the great use this paper might be of to the 
public, by reprehending those vices which are too trivial 
for the chastisement of the law, and too fantastical for the 
cognizance of the pulpit. He then advised me to prosecute 
my undertaking with cheerfulness, and assured me that, 



/ 



The Spectator s Policy Discussed. 19 

whoever might be displeased with me, I should be approved 
by all those whose praises do honor to persons on whom 
they are bestowed. 

The whole club pays a particular deference to the dis- 
course of this gentleman, and are drawn into what he says, 
as much by the candid ingenuous manner with which he 
delivers himself, as by the strength of argument and force 
of reason which he makes use of. Will Honeycomb imme- 
diately agreed, that what he had said was right; and that 
for his part, he would not insist upon the quarter which he 
had demanded for the ladies. Sir Andrew gave up the city 
with the same frankness. The Templar would not stand 
out, and was followed by Sir Eoger and the Captain : who 
all agreed that I should be at liberty to carry the war into 
what quarter I pleased; provided I continued to combat 
with criminals in a body, and to assault the vice without 
hurting the person. 

This debate, which was held for the good of mankind, 
put me in mind of that which the Eoman triumvirate were 
formerly engaged in for their destruction. Every man at 
first stood hard for his friend, till they found that by this 
means they should spoil the proscription; and at length, 
making a sacrifice of all their acquaintance and relations, 
furnished out a very decent execution. 

Having thus taken my resolutions to march on boldly in 
the cause of virtue and good sense, and to annoy their 
adversaries in whatever degree or rank of men they may 
be found, I shall be deaf for the future to all the remon- 
strances that shall be made to me on this account. If 
Punch grows extravagant, I shall reprimand him very 
freely. If the stage becomes a nursery of folly and im- 
pertinence, I shall not be afraid to animadvert upon it. 
In short, if I meet with anything in city, court, or country, 



20 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, 

that shocks modesty or good manners, I shall use my utmost 
endeavors to make an example of it. I must, however, 
entreat every particular person, wlio does me the honor 
to be a reader of this paper, never to think himself, or any 
one of his friends or enemies, aimed at in what is said; 
for jp promise him, never to draw a faulty character which 
does not fit at least a thousand people; or to publish a 
single paper, that is not written in the spirit of benevo- 
lence, and with a love to mankind. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 37. Thursday, April 12, 1711 : — A fashionable lady's 

library. 

Non ilia colo calathisve Minervre 

Femineas assueta manus 

viRG. MS. vii. 805. 

Some months ago, my friend Sir Koger being in the 
country, inclosed a letter to me, directed to a certain lady 
whom I shall here call by the name of Leonora; and, as it 
contained matters of consequence, desired me to deliver it 
to her with my own hand. Accordingly I waited upon her 
ladyship pretty early in the morning, and was desired by 
her woman to walk into her lady's library, till such time 
as she was in readiness to receive me. The very sound of 
a lady's library gave me a great curiosity to see it; and as 
it was some time before the lady came to me, I had an 
opportunity of turning over a great many of her books, 
which were ranged together in a very beautiful order. At 
the end of the folios (which were finely bound and gilt) 
were great jars of china placed one above another in a very 
noble piece of architecture. The quartos were separated 
from the octavos by a pile of smaller vessels, which rose 



A Fashionable Lady^s Library. 21 

in a delightful pyramid. The octavos were bounded by 
tea-dishes of all shapes, colors, and sizes, which were so 
disposed on a wooden frame, that they looked like one con- 
tinued pillar indented with the finest strokes of sculpture, 
and stained with the greatest variety of dyes. That part of 
the library which was designed for the reception of plays 
and pamphlets, and other loose papers, was inclosed in a 
kind of square, consisting of one of the prettiest grotesque 
works that I ever saw, and made up of scaramouches, lions, 
monkeys, mandarines, trees, shells, and a thousand other 
odd figures in chinaware. In the midst of the room was a 
little japan table, with a quire of gilt paper upon it, and 
on the paper a silver snuff-box made in the shape of a little 
book. I found there were several other counterfeit books 
upon the upper shelves, which were carved in wood, and 
served only to fill up the numbers like faggots in the 
muster of a regiment. I was wonderfully pleased with 
such a mixed kind of furniture, as seemed very suitable 
both to the lady and the scholar, and did not know at first 
whether I should fancy myself in a grotto, or in a library. 
Upon my looking into the books, I found there were some 
few which the lady had bought for her own use, but that 
most of them had been got together, either because she had 
heard them praised, or because she had seen the authors of 
them. Among several that I examined, I very well re- 
member these that follow : — 

Ogleby's Virgil. 

Dryden's Juvenal. 

Cassandra. 

Cleopatra. 

Astrsea. 

Sir Isaac Newton's Works. 



22 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

The Grand Cyrus ; with, a pin stuck in one of the middle 

leaves. 
Pembroke's Arcadia. 
Locke of Human Understanding; with a paper of patches 

in it. 
A Spelling Book. 

A Dictionary for the explanation of hard words. 
Sherlock upon Death. 
The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony. 
Sir William Temple's Essays. 
Father Malebranche's Search after Truth, translated into 

English. 
A book of Novels. 
The Academy of Compliments. 
Culpepper's Midwifery. 
The Ladies' Calling. 
Tales in Verse by Mr. Durf ey ; bound in red leather, gilt 

on the back, and doubled down in several places. 
All the Classic Authors in wood. 
A set of Elzevirs by the same hand. 
Clelia : which opened of itself in the place that describes 

two lovers in a bower. 
Baker's Chronicle. 
Advice to a Daughter. 
The New Atalantis, with a Key to it. 
Mr. Steele's Christian Hero. 
A Prayer Book; with a bottle of Hungary water by the 

side of it. 
Dr. Sacheverell's Speech. 
Fielding's Trial. 
Seneca's Morals. 

Taylor's Holy Living and Dying. 
La Ferte's Instructions for Country Dances. 



<s 



A Fashionable Lady's Library. 23 

I was taking a catalogue in my pocket-book of these, and 
several other authors, when Leonora entered, and upon my 
presenting her with a letter from the knight, told me, with 
an unspeakable grace, that she hoped Sir Roger was in good 
health: I answered, Yes, for I hate long speeches, and after 
a bow or two retired. 

Leonora was formerly a celebrated beauty, and is still a 
very lovely woman. She has been a widow for two or three 
years, and being unfortunate in her first marriage, has taken 
a resolution never to venture upon a second. She has no 
children to take care of, and leaves the management of her 
estate to my good friend Sir Roger. But as the mind 
naturally sinks into a kind of lethargy, and falls asleep, 
that is not agitated by some favorite pleasures and pur- 
suits, Leonora has turned all the passion of her sex into a 
love of books and retirement. She converses chiefly with 
men (as she has often said herself), but it is only in their 
writings; and admits of very few male visitants, except my 
friend Sir Roger, whom she hears with great pleasure, and 
without scandal. As her reading has lain very much among 
romances, it has given her a very particular turn of think- 
ing, and discovers itself even in her house, her gardens, 
and her furniture. Sir Roger has entertained me an horn- 
together with a description of her country-seat, which is 
situated in a kind of wilderness, about an hundred miles 
distant from London, and looks like a little enchanted 
palace. The rocks about her are shaped into artificial grot- 
toes covered with woodbines and jessamines. The woods 
are cut into shady walks, twisted into bowers, and filled 
with cages of turtles. The springs are made to run among 
pebbles, and by that means taught to murmur very agree- 
ably. They are likewise collected into a beautiful lake that 
is inhabited by a couple of swans, and empties itself by a 



24 The Si7' Roger de Ooverley Papers. 

little rivulet which runs through a green meadow, and is 
known in the family by the name of The Purling Stream. 
The knight likewise tells me, that this lady preserves her 
game better than any of the gentlemen in the country, not 
(says Sir Eoger) that she sets so great a value upon her 
partridges and pheasants, as upon her larks and nightin- 
gales. For she says that every bird which is killed in her 
ground will spoil a concert, and that she shall certainly 
miss him the next year. 

When I think how oddly this lady is improved by learn- 
ing, I look upon her with a mixture of admiration and pity. 
Amidst these innocent entertainments which she has forjned 
to herself, how much more valuable does she apjDear than 
those of her sex, who employ themselves in diversions that 
are less reasonable, though more in fashion? What im- 
provements would a woman have made, who is so sus- 
ceptible of impressions from what she reads, had she been 
guided to such books as have a tendency to enlighten the 
understanding and rectify the passions, as well as to those 
which are of little more use than to divert the imagi- 
nation? 

But the manner of a lady's employing herself usefully 
in reading, shall be the subject of another paper, in which 
I design to recommend such particular books as may be 
proper for the improvement of the sex. And as this is a 
subject of a very nice nature, I shall desire my correspond- 
ents to give me their thoughts upon it. — Addison. 



k?/ 



,Tlie Spectator at Sir Roger'* s. 25 



Spectator No. I06. ^^onday, July 2, 1711: — The Spectator's ob- 
servations at Sir Roger's country-house. 

Hinc tibi copia 



Mauabit ad plenum, benigno 
Ruris bonorum opulenta cornu. 

HOR. OD. I, xvii. 14. 

Having often received an invitation from my friend Sir 
Roger de Coverley to pass away a month with him in 
the country, I last week accompanied him thither, and am 
settled with him for some time at his country-house, where 
I intend to form several of my ensuing speculations. Sir 
Eoger, who is very well acquainted with my humor, lets 
me rise and go to bed when I please, dine at his own table 
or in my chamber as I think lit, sit still and say nothing 
without bidding me be merry. When the gentlemen of the 
country come to see him, he only shows me at a distance. 
As I have been walking in his fields I have observed them 
stealing a sight of me over a hedge, and have heard the 
knight desiring them not to let me see them, for that I hated 
to be stared at. 

I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it 
consists of sober and staid persons; for as the knight is 
the best master in the world, he seldom changes his ser- 
vants ; and as he is beloved by all about him, his servants 
never care for leaving him; by this means his domestics 
are all in years, and grown old with their master. You 
would take his valet-de-chambre for his brother, his butler 
is gray-headed, his groom is one of the gravest men that I 
have ever seen, and his coachman has the looks of a privy- 
councillor. You see the goodness of the master even in 
the old house-dog, and in a grey pad that is kept in the 
stable with great care and tenderness out of regard to 



26 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

his past services, though he has been useless for several 
years. 

I could not but observe with a great deal of pleasure the 
joy that appeared in the countenances of these ancient 
domestics upon my friend's arrival at his country-seat. 
Some of them could not refrain from tears at the sight of 
their old master; every one of them pressed forward to do 
something for him, and seemed discouraged if they were 
not employed. At the same time the good old knight, with 
a mixture of the father and the master of the family, tem- 
pered the inquiries after his own affairs with several kind 
questions relating to themselves. This humanity and good 
nature engages everybody to him ; so that when he is pleas- 
ant upon any of them, all his family are in good humor, 
and none so much as the person whom he diverts himself 
with; on the contrary, if he coughs, or betrays any infirmity 
of old age, it is easy for a stander-by to observe a secret 
concern in the looks of all his servants. 

My worthy friend has put me under the particular care 
of his butler, Avho is a very prudent man, and, as well as 
the rest of his fellow-servants, wonderfully desirous of 
pleasing me, because they have often heard their master 
talk of me as of his particular friend. 

My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself 
in the woods or the fields, is a very venerable man who is 
ever with Sir Eoger, and has lived at his house in the 
nature of a chaplain above thirty years. This gentleman is 
a person of good sense and some learning, of a very regular 
life and obliging conversation ; he heartily loves Sir Roger, 
and knows that he is very much in the old knight's esteem, 
so that he lives in the family rather as a relation than as a 
dependant. 

I have observed in several of ni}^ papers, that my friend 



The Spectatx)r at Sir Roger's. 27 

Sir Koger, amidst all his good qualities, is something of a 
humorist; and that his virtues, as well as imperfections, 
are as it were tinged by a certain extravagance, which 
makes them particularly his, and distinguishes them from 
those of other men. This cast of mind, as it is generally 
very innocent in itself, so it renders his conversation highly 
agreeable, and more delightful than the same degree of 
sense and virtue would appear in their common and ordi- 
nary colors. As I was walking with him last night, he 
asked me how I liked the good man whom I have just now 
mentioned? and without staying for my answer told me, 
that he was afraid of being insulted Avith Latin and Greek 
at his own table ; for which reason, he desired a particular 
friend of his at the university to find him out a clergyman 
rather of plain sense than much learning, of a good aspect, 
a clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man 
that understood a little of back-gammon. "My friend," 
says Sir Eoger, "found me out this gentleman, who, besides 
the endowments required of him, is, they tell me, a good 
scholar, though he does not show it. I have given him the 
parsonage of the parish; and, because, I know his value, 
have settled upon him a good annuity for life. If he out- 
lives me, he shall find that he was higher in my esteem 
than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been with me 
thirty years; and, though he does not know I have taken 
notice of it, has never in all that time asked anything of 
me for himself, though he is every day soliciting me for 
something in behalf of one or other of my tenants his parish- 
ioners. There has not been a lawsuit in the parish since 
he has lived among them ; if any dispute arises, they apply 
themselves to him for the decision; if they do not acquiesce 
in his judgment, which I think never happened above once 
or twice at most, they appeal to me. At his first settling 



28 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

with me, I made him a present of all the good sermons 
which have been printed in English, and only begged of 
him that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them in 
the pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into such a 
series, and they follow one another naturally, and make a 
continued system of practical divinity." 

As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentleman 
we were talking of came up to us; and upon the knight's 
asking him who preached to-morrow (for it was Saturday 
night), told us, the Bishop of St. Asaph in the morning, 
and Dr. South in the afternoon. He then showed us his 
list of preachers for the whole year; where I saAv with a 
great deal of pleasure Archbishop Tillotson, Bishop Saun- 
derson. Dr. Barrow, Dr. Calamy, with several living authors 
who have published discourses of practical divinity. I no 
sooner saw this venerable man in the pulpit, but I very 
much approved of my friend's insisting upon the qualifi- 
.cations of a good aspect and a clear voice; for I was so 
charmed with the gracefulness of his figure and delivery, 
as well as with the discourses he pronounced, that I think 
I never passed any time more to my satisfaction. A sermon 
repeated after this manner, is like the composition of a poet 
in the mouth of a graceful actor. 

I could heartily wish that more of our country clergy 
would follow this example; and instead of wasting their 
spirits in laborious compositions of their own, would en- 
deavor after a handsome elocution, and all those other 
talents tliat are proper to enforce what has been j)enned by 
greater masters. This would not only be more easy to 
themselves, but more edifying to the people. — Addison. 



Sir Roger and his Dependants. 29 



Spectator No. 107. Tuesday, Juhj 3, 1711 : — The Coverley liome- 
liold : Sir Roger's treatment of his servants. 

^sopo ingentem statuam posuere Attici, 
Servumque collocarunt retenia in basi, 
Patere honoris scireut ut cuuctis viam. 

PH^DR. II. EPIL. 1. 

The reception, manner of attendance, undisturbed free- 
dom and quiet, which I meet with here in the country, has 
confirmed me in the opinion I always had, that the general 
corruption of manners in servants is owing to the conduct 
of masters. The aspect of every one in the family carries 
so much satisfaction, that it appears he knows the happy 
lot which has befallen him, in being a member of it. 
There is one particular wliich I have seldom seen but at 
Sir Roger's; it is usual in all other places, that servants 
fly from the parts of the house through which their master 
is passing; on the contrary, liere they industriously place 
themselves in his way ; and it is on both sides, as it were, 
understood as a visit, when the servants appear without 
calling. This proceeds from the humane and equal temper 
of the man of the house, who also perfectly well knows how 
to enjoy a great estate, with such economy as ever to be 
much beforehand- This makes his own mind untroubled, 
and consequently unapt to vent peevish expressions, or give 
passionate or inconsistent orders to those about him. Thus 
respect and love go together ; and a certain cheerfulness in 
performance of their duty is the particular distinction of 
the lower part of this family. When a servant is called 
before his master, he does not come with an expectation to 
hear himself rated for some trivial fault, threatened to be 
stripped, or used with any other unbecoming language, 
which mean masters often give to worthy servants; but it 



80 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

is often to know, what road lie took that he came so readily 
back according to order; whether he passed by such a 
ground; if the old man who rents it is in good health; or 
whether he gave Sir Roger's love to him, or the like. 

A man who preserves a respect founded on his benevo- 
lence to his dependants, lives rather like a prince than a 
master in his family; his orders are received as favors 
rather than duties; and the distinction of approaching him 
is part of the reward for executing what is commanded by 
him. 

There is another circumstance in which my friend excels 
in his management, which is the manner of rewarding his 
servants. He has ever been of opinion, that giving his 
cast clothes to be worn by valets has a very ill effect upon 
little minds, and creates a silly sense of equality between 
the parties, in persons affected only with outward things. 
I have heard him often pleasant on this occasion, and de- 
scribe a young gentleman abusing his man in that coat, 
which a month or two before was the most pleasing dis- 
tinction he was conscious of in himself. He would turn 
his discourse still more pleasantly upon the bounties of the 
ladies in this kind; and I have heard him say, he knew a 
fine woman, who distributed rewards and punishments in 
giving becoming or unbecoming dresses to her maids. 

But my good friend is above these little instances of good 
Avill, in bestowing only trifles on his servants ; a good ser- 
vant to him is sure of having it in his choice very soon of 
being no servant at all. As I before observed, he is so 
good a husband, and knows so thoroughly that the skill of 
the purse is the cardinal virtue of this life ; I say, he knows 
so well that frugality is the support of generosity, that he 
can often spare a large fine when a tenement falls, and give 
that settlement to a good servant who has a mind to go into 



47 

Sir Roger and his Dependants. 31 

the world, or make a stranger pay the fine to that servant, for 
his more comfortable maintenance, if he stays in his service. 

A man of honor and generosity considers it would be 
miserable to himself to have no will but that of another, 
though it were of the best person breathing, and for that 
reason goes on as fast as he is able to put his servants into 
independent livelihoods. The greatest part of Sir Roger's 
estate is tenanted by persons who have served himself or 
his ancestors. It was to me extremely pleasant to observe 
the visitants from several parts to welcome his arrival into 
the country ; and all the difference that I could take notice 
of between the late servants who came to see him, and 
those who stayed in the family, was, that these latter were 
looked upon as finer gentlemen and better courtiers. 

This manumission and placing them in a way of liveli- 
hood, I look upon as only what is due to a good servant; 
which encouragement will make his successor be as diligent, 
as humble, and as ready as he was. There is something 
wonderful in the narrowness of those minds, which can be 
pleased, and be barren of bounty to those who please them. 

One might, on this occasion, recount the sense that great 
persons in all ages have had of the merit of their depend- 
ants, and the heroic services which men have done their 
masters in the extremity of their fortunes; and shoAvn to 
their undone patrons, that fortune was all the difference 
between them ; but as I design this my speculation only as 
a gentle admonition to thankless masters, I shall not go out 
of the occurrences of common life, but assert it as a general 
observation, that I never saw, but in Sir Roger's family, 
and one or two more, good servants treated as they ought 
to be. Sir Roger's kindness extends to their children's 
children, and this very morning he sent his coachman's 
grandson to prentice. I shall conclude this paper with an 



32 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

account of a picture in his gallery, where there are many 
which will deserve my future observation. 

At the very upper end of this handsome structure I saw 
the portraiture of two young men standing in a river, the 
one naked, the other in a livery. The person supported 
seemed half dead, but still so much alive as to show in his 
face exquisite joy and love towards the other. I thought 
the fainting figure resembled my friend Sir E-oger; and 
looking at the butler who stood by me, for an account of it, 
he informed me that the person in the livery was a servant 
of Sir Eoger's who stood on the shore while his master was 
swimming, and observing him taken with some sudden ill- 
ness, and sink under water, jumped in and saved him. He 
told me. Sir Koger took off the dress he was in as soon as 
he came home, and by a great bounty at that time, followed 
by his favor ever since, had made him master of that pretty 
seat which we saw at a distance as we came to this house. 
I remembered, indeed, Sir Roger said, there lived a very 
worthy gentleman, to whom he was highly obliged, without 
mentioning anything further. Upon my looking a little 
dissatisfied at some part of the picture, my attendant in- 
formed me, that it Avas against Sir Roger's will, and at the 
earnest request of the gentleman himself, that he was drawn 
in the habit in which he had saved his master. — Steele. 



Spectator No. io8. Wednesday, July 4, 1711 : — The Spectator de- 
scrdjes Will Wimhle, ivliom he meets at Sir Roger's. 

Gratis aiihelans, multa agendo nihil agens. 

PH^D. FAB. II. V. 3. 

As I was yesterday morning walking with Sir Roger, 
before his house, a country fellow brought him a huge fish, 



I.. ' 

Will Wimble. 33 

which he tokl him Mr. William Wimble had caught that 
very morning; and that he presented it with his service to 
him, and intended to come and dine with him. At the 
same time he delivered a letter, which my friend read as 
soon as the messenger left him. 

"Sir Roger, 

"I desire you to accept of a jack, which is the best I 
have caught this season. I intend to come and stay with 
you a week, and see how the perch bite in the Black river. 
I observed with some concern, the last time I saw you upon 
the bowling green, that your whip wanted a lash to it; I 
will bring half-a-dozen with me that I twisted last week, 
which I hope will serve you all the time you are in the 
country. I have not been out of the saddle for six days 
last past, having been at Eton with Sir John's eldest son. 
He takes to his learning hugely. 

" I am. Sir, 
" Your humble servant, 

"Will Wimble." 

This extraordinary letter, and message that accompanied 
it, made me very curious to know the character and quality 
of the gentleman who sent them; which I found to be as 
follow: — "Will Wimble is younger brother to a baronet, 
and descended of the ancient family of the Wimbles. He 
is now between forty and fifty ; but being bred to no busi- 
ness, and born to no estate, he generally lives with his elder 
brother as superintendent of his game. He hunts a pack 
of dogs better than any man in the country, and is very 
famous for finding out a hare. He is extremely well versed 
in all the little handicrafts of an idle man. He makes a 
May -fly to a miracle; and furnishes the whole country with 



34 The Sir Hoger de Coverley Papers. 

angle-rods. As he is a good-natured officious fellow, and 
very mucli esteemed upon account of his family, he is a 
welcome guest at every house, and keeps up a good corre- 
spondence among all the gentlemen about him. He carries 
a tulip-root in his pocket from one to another, or exchanges 
a puppy between a couple of friends that live perhaps in 
the opposite sides of the county. Will is a particular 
favorite of all the young heirs, whom he frequently obliges 
with a net that he has weaved, or a setting-dog that he has 
'made ' himself. He now and then presents a pair of gar- 
ters of his own knitting to their mothers or sisters; and 
raises a great deal of mirth among them, by inquiring, as 
often as he meets them, 'How they wear?' These gentle- 
man-like manufactures and obliging little humors make 
Will the darling of the country." 

Sir Koger was proceeding in the character of him, when 
he saw him make up to us with two or three hazel twigs in 
his hand that he had cut in Sir Roger's woods, as he came 
through them, in his way to the house. I was very much 
pleased to observe on one side the hearty and sincere wel- 
come with which Sir Eoger received him, and, on the other, 
the secret joy which his guest discovered at the sight of the 
good old knight. After the first salutes were over. Will 
desired Sir E-oger to lend him one of his servants to carry 
a set of shuttle-cocks he had with him in a little box, to a 
lady that lived about a mile off, to whom it seems he had 
promised such a present for above this half year. Sir 
Roger's back was no sooner turned, but honest AVill began 
to tell me of a large cock pheasant that he had sprung in 
one of the neighboring woods, with two or three other 
adventures of the same nature. Odd and uncommon char- 
acters are the game that I look for, and most delight in ; 
for which reason I was as much pleased with the novelty 



•1 » 

Will Wimble, 35 

of the person that talked to me, as he could be for his life 
with the springing of a pheasant, and therefore listened to 
him with more than ordinary attention. 

In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to dinner, 
where the gentleman I have been speaking of had the 
pleasure of seeing the huge jack he had caught, served up 
for the first dish in a most sumptuous manner. Upon our 
sitting down to it he gave us a long account how he had 
hooked it, played with it, foiled it, and at length drew it 
out upon the bank, with several other particulars that 
lasted all the first course. A dish of wild fowl that came 
afterwards furnished conversation for the rest of the dinner 
which concluded with a late invention of Will's for im- 
proving the quail-pipe. 

Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, T was 
secretly touched with compassion towards the honest gen- 
tleman that had dined with us ; and could not but consider 
with a great deal of concern, how so good an heart and such 
busy hands were wholly employed in trifles; that so much 
humanity should be so little beneficial to others, and so 
much industry so little advantageous to himself. The 
same temper of mind and application to affairs might have 
recommended him to the public esteem, and have raised his 
fortune in another station of life. What good to his country 
or himself might not a trader or merchant have done with 
such useful though ordinary qualifications? 

Will Wimble's is the case of many a younger brother of 
a great family, who had rather see their children starve 
like gentlemen, than thrive in a trade or profession that is 
beneath their quality. This humor fills several parts of 
Europe with pride and beggary. It is the happiness of a 
trading nation like ours, that the younger sons, though 
incapable of any liberal art or profession, may be placed 



36 The Sir Roger de Ooverley Papers. 

ill such a way of life, as may perhaps enable tliem to vie 
with the best of their family. Accordingly we find several 
citizens that were launched into the world with narrow for- 
tunes, rising by an honest industry to greater estates than 
those of their elder brothers. It is not improbable but 
Will was formerly tried at divinity, law, or physic; and 
that finding his genius did not lie that way, his parents 
gave him up at length to his own inventions. But cer- 
tainly, however improper he might have been for studies 
of a higher nature, he was perfectly well turned for the 
occupation of trade and commerce. As I think this is a 
point which cannot be too much inculcated, I shall desire 
my reader to compare what I have here written with what 
I have said in my twenty-first speculation. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 109. Thursday^ July 5, 1711 : — Sir Roger's account 
of his ancestors. 



Abnormis sapiens ■ 



HOR. 2, SAT. ii. 3. 



I WAS this morning walking in the gallery, when Sir 
Roger entered at the end opposite to me, and advancing 
towards me, said he was glad to meet me among his rela- 
tions the de Coverleys, and hoped I liked the conversation 
of so much good company, who were as silent as myself. I 
knew he alluded to the pictures ; and as he is a gentleman 
who does not a little value himself upon his ancient descent, 
I expected he would give me some account of them. We 
were now arrived at the upper end of the gallery, when the 
knight faced towards one of the pictures ; and as we stood 
before it, he entered into the matter, after his blunt way 
of saying things as they occur to his imagination, without 



The Coverlet/ Po7'trait Gallery. 37 

regular introduction, or care to preserve the appearance of 
chain of thought. 

"It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of 
dress ; and how the persons of one age differ from those of 
another, merely by that only. One may observe also, that 
the general fashion of one age has been followed by one 
particular set of people in another, and by them preserved 
from one generation to another. Thus the vast jetting 
coat and small bonnet, which was the habit in Harry the 
Seventh's time, is kept on in the yeomen of the guard: not 
without a good and politic view, because they look a foot 
taller, and a foot and a half broader : besides, that the cap 
leaves the face expanded, and consequently more terrible, 
and fitter to stand at the entrance of palaces. 

" This predecessor of ours, you see, is dressed after this 
manner, and his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were 
he in a hat as I am. He was the last man that won a prize 
in the Tilt-yard, (which is now a common street before 
Whitehall). You see the broken lance that lies there by 
his right foot. He shivered that lance of his adversary all 
to pieces : and bearing himself, look you, sir, in this man- 
ner, at the same time he came within the target of the 
gentleman who rode against him, and taking him with 
incredible force before him on the pommel of his saddle, 
he in that manner rid the tournament over, with an air 
that showed he did it rather to perform the rule of the 
lists, than expose his enemy : however, it appeared he knew 
how to make use of a victory, and with a gentle trot he 
marched up to a gallery where their mistress sat, (for they 
were rivals), and let him down with laudable courtesy and 
pardonable insolence. I do not know but it might be 
exactly where the coffee-house is now. 

"You are to know, this my ancestor was not only of a 



38 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

military genius, but fit also for the arts of peace, for he 
played on the bass-viol as well as any gentleman at court; 
you see where his viol hangs by his basket-hilt sword. 
The action at the Tilt-yard you may be sure won the fair 
lady, who was a maid of honor, and the greatest beauty of 
her time; here she stands, the next picture. You see, sir, 
my great great great grandmother has on the new-fashioned 
petticoat, except that the modern is gathered at the waist; 
my grandmother appears as if she stood in a large drum, 
whereas the ladies now walk as if they were in a go cart. 
For all this lady was bred at court, she became an excellent 
country-wife, she brought ten children; and when I show 
you the library, you shall see in her own hand (allowing 
for the difference of the language) the best receipt now in 
England both for an hasty-pudding and a white-pot. 

" If you please to fall back a little, because it is necessary 
to look at the three next pictures at one view; these are 
three sisters. She on the right hand, Avho is so very beau- 
tiful, died a maid; the next to her, still handsomer, had 
the same fate, against her will; this homely thing in the 
middle had both their portions added to her own, and was 
stolen by a neighboring gentleman, a man of stratagem 
and resolution, for he poisoned three mastiffs to come at 
her, and knocked down two deer-stealers in carrying her 
off. Misfortunes happen in all families. The theft of this 
romp, and so much money, was no great matter to our estate. 
But the next heir that possessed it was this soft gentleman, 
whom you see there. Observe the small buttons, the little 
boots, the laces, the slashes about his clothes, and above 
all, the posture he is drawn in, (which to be sure was his 
own choosing); you see he sits with one hand on a desk 
writing, and looking as it were another way, like an easy 
writer or a sonneteer. He was one of those that had too 



*5 



The Qoverley Portrait G-allery. 39 

much wit to know how to live in the world; he was a man 
of no justice, but great good manners; he ruined every- 
body that had anything to do with him, but- never said a 
rude thing in his life; the most indolent person in the 
world; he would sign a deed that passed away half his 
estate with his gloves on, but would not put on his hat 
before a lady if it were to save his country. He is said to 
be the first that made love by squeezing the hand. He left 
the estate with ten thousand pounds' debt upon it; but how- 
ever, by all hands I have been informed that he was every 
way the finest gentleman in the world. That debt lay heavy 
on our house for one generation; but it was retrieved by a 
gift, from that honest man you see there, a citizen of our 
name, but nothing at all akin to us. I know Sir Andrew 
Freeport has said behind my back, that this man was de- 
scended from one of the ten children of the maid of honor, 
I showed you above; but it was never made out. We 
winked at the thing indeed, because money was wanting at 
that time." 

Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned 
my face to the next portraiture. 

Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in the 
following manner. — " This man (pointing to him I looked 
at) I take to be the honor of our house. Sir Humphrey 
de Coverley ; he was in his dealings as punctual as a trades- 
man, and as generous as a gentleman. He would have 
thought himself as much undone by .breaking his word, as 
if it were to be followed by bankruptcy. He served his 
country as knight of this shire to his dying day. He found 
it no easy matter to maintain an integrity in his words and 
actions, even in things that regarded the offices which were 
incumbent upon him, in the care of his own affairs and rela- 
tions of life, and therefore dreaded (though he had great 



A 



40 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

talents) to go into employments of state, where he must be 
exposed to the snares of ambition. Innocence of life and 
great ability were the distinguishing parts of his character ; 
the latter, he had often observed, had led to the destruc- 
tion of the former, and he used frequently to lament that 
great and good had not the same signification. He was an 
excellent husbandman, but had resolved not to exceed such 
a degree of wealth; all above it he bestowed in secret boun- 
ties many years after the sum he aimed at for his own use 
was attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a 
decent old age spent the life and fortune, which was super- 
fluous to himself, in the service of his friends and neigh- 
bors." 

Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Eoger ended the 
discourse of this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed 
the servant, that this his ancestor was a brave man, and 
narrowly escaped being killed in the civil wars; — "For," 
said he, " he was sent out of the field upon a private mes- 
sage, the day before the battle of Worcester." The whim 
of narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, 
with other matters above mentioned, mixed with good sense, 
left me at a loss, whether I was more delighted with my 
friend's wisdom or simplicity, — Steele. 



Spectator No. no. Fridaij, July 6, 1711: — Ghosts and haunted 

houses. 

Horror ubiqne aniraos, simul ipsa silentia terrent. 

viRG. ^N. ii. 755. 

At a little distance from Sir Eoger's house, among the 
ruins of an old abbey, there is a long walk of aged elms ; 
which are shot up so very high, that when one passes under 



Haunted Houses. 41 

them, the rooks and crows that rest upon the tops of them 
seem to be cawing in another region. I am very much 
delighted with this sort of noise, which I consider as a kind 
of natural prayer to that Being who supplies the wants of 
his whole creation, and who, in the beautiful language of 
the Psalms, feedeth the young ravens that call upon him. 
I like this retirement the better, because of an ill report it 
lies under of being haunted; for which reason (as I have 
been told in the family) no living creature ever walks in it 
besides the chaplain. My good friend the butler desired 
me with a very grave face not to venture myself in it after 
sun-set, for that one of the footmen had been almost fright- 
ened out of his wits by a spirit that appeared to him in the 
shape of a black horse without an head ; to which he added, 
that about a month ago, one of the maids coming home late 
that way with a pail of milk upon her head, heard such a 
rustling among the bushes that she let it fall. 

I was taking a walk in this place last night between the 
hours of nine and ten, and could not but fancy it one of the 
most proper scenes in the world for a ghost to appear in. 
The ruins of the abbey are scattered up and down on every 
side, and half covered with ivy and elder-bushes, the har- 
bors of several solitary birds which seldom make their 
appearance till the dusk of the evening. The place was 
formerly a church-yard, and has still several marks in it of 
graves and burying-places. There is such an echo among 
the old ruins and vaults, that if you stamp but a little 
louder than ordinary, you hear the sound repeated. At 
the same time the walk of elms, with the croaking of the 
ravens which from time to time are heard from the tops of 
them, looks exceeding solemn and venerable. These objects 
naturally raise seriousness and attention ; and when night 
heightens the awfulness of the place, and pours out her 



42 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

supernumerary horrors upon everything in it, I do not at all 
wonder that weak minds till it with spectres and apparitions. 

Mr. Locke, in his chapter of the association of ideas, has 
very curious remarks to show how b}" the prejudice of edu- 
cation, one idea often introduces into the mind a whole set 
that bear no resemblance to one another in the nature of 
things. Among several examples of this kind, he pro- 
duces the following instance. — " The ideas of goblins and 
sprights have really no more to do with darkness than 
light : yet let but a foolish maid inculcate these often on 
the mind of a child, and raise them there together, pos- 
sibly he shall never be able to separate them again so long 
as he lives ; but darkness shall ever afterwards bring with 
it those frightful ideas, and they shall be so joined, that 
he can no more bear the one than the other." 

As I was walking in this solitude, where the dusk of the 
evening conspired with so many other occasions of terror, 
I observed a cow grazing not far from me, which an imagi- 
nation that was apt to startle might easily have construed 
into a black horse without an head; and I dare say the 
poor footman lost his wits upon some such trivial occasion. 

My friend Sir Roger has often told me with a good deal 
of mirth, that at his first coming to his estate he found 
three parts of his house altogether useless; that the best 
room in it had the reputation of being haunted, and by that 
means was locked up; that noises had been heard in his 
long gallery, so that he could not get a servant to enter it 
after eight o'clock at night; that the door of one of his 
chambers was nailed up, because there went a story in the 
family that a butler had formerly hanged himself in it; 
and that his mother, who lived to a great age, had shut up 
half the rooms in the house, in which either her husband, 
a son, or daughter had died. The knight seeing his habita- 



Haunted Houses. 43 

tion reduced to so small a compass, and himself in a manner 
shut out of his own house, upon the death of his mother, 
ordered all the apartments to be flung open, and exorcised 
by his chaplain, who lay in every room one after another, 
and by that means dissipated the fears which had so long- 
reigned in the family. * 
I should not thus have been particular upon these ridicu- 
lous horrors, did not I find them so very much prevail in 
all parts of the country. At the same time I think a person 
who is thus terrified with the imagination of ghosts and 
spectres much more reasonable than one who, contrary to 
the reports of all historians, sacred and profane, ancient 
and modern, and to the traditions of all nations, thinks the 
appearance of spirits fabulous and groundless. Could not 
I give myself up to this general testimony of mankind, I 
should to the relations of particular persons who are now 
living, and whom I cannot distrust in other matters of fact. 
I might here add, that not only the historians, to whom 
we may join the poets, but likewise the philosophers of 
antiquity, have favored this opinion. Lucretius himself, 
though by the course of his philosophy he was obliged to 
maintain that the soul did not exist separate from the body, 
makes no doubt of the reality of apparitions, and that men 
have often appeared after their death. This I think very 
remarkable : he was so pressed with the matter of fact which 
he could not have the confidence to deny, that he was forced 
to account for it by one of the most absurd unphilosophical 
notions that was ever started. He tells us, that the sur- 
faces of all bodies are perpetually flying off from their 
respective bodies, one after another; and that these surfaces 
or thin cases that included each other whilst they were 
joined in the body like the coats of an onion, are sometimes 
seen entire when they are separated from it; by which 



44 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

means we often behold the shapes and shadows of persons 
who are either dead or absent. 

I shall dismiss this paper with a story out of Josephus, 
not so much for the sake of the story itself, as for the moral 
reflections with which the author concludes it, and which 
I shall here set down in his own words. — " Glaphyra, the 
daughter of King Arch elans, after the death of her two first 
husbands (being married to a third, who was brother to her 
first husband, and so passionately in love with her that he 
turned off his former wife to make room for this marriage) 
had a very odd kind of dream. She fancied that she saw 
her first husband coming towards her, and that she em- 
braced him Avith great tenderness; when in the midst of 
the pleasure which she expressed at the sight of him, he 
reproached her after the following manner. 'Glaphyra,' 
says he, 'thou hast made good the old saying. That women 
are not to be trusted. Was not I the husband of thy vir- 
ginity? Have I not children by thee? How couldst thou 
forget our loves so far as to enter into a second marriage, 
and after that into a third, nay to take for thy husband a 
man who has so shamefully crept into the bed of his brother? 
However, for the sake of our past loves, I shall free thee 
from thy present reproach, and make thee mine for ever.' 
Glaphyra told this dream to several women of her acquaint- 
ance, and died soon after. I thought this story might not 
be impertinent in this place, wherein I speak of those kings. 
Besides that the example deserves to be taken notice of, as 
it contains a most certain proof of the immortality of the 
soul, and of divine providence. If any man thinks these 
facts incredible, let him enjoy his own opinion to himself, 
but let him not endeavor to disturb the belief of others, 
who by instances of this nature are excited to the study of 
virtue." — Addison. 



The Immortality of the Soul. 45 

Spectator No. iii. Saturdmj, July 7, 1711:— The Spectator, in 
Sir Roger's woods, meditates on the immortality of the soul. 

Inter silvas Academi qurerere veriim. 

HOR, EP. II. 2, 45. 

The course of my last speculation led me insensibly into 
a subject upon which I always meditate with great delight, 
I mean the immortality of the soul. I was yesterday walk- 
ing alone in one of my friend's woods, and lost myself in 
it very agreeably, as I was running over in my mind the 
several arguments that established this great point, which 
is the basis of morality, and the source of all the pleasing 
hopes and secret joys that can arise in the heart of a reason- 
able creature. I considered those several proofs, drawn. 

First, from the nature of the soul itself, and particularly 
its immateriality; which, though not absolutely necessary 
to the eternity of its duration, has, I think, been evinced 
to almost a demonstration. 

Secondly, from its passions and sentiments, as particu- 
larly from its love of existence, its horror of annihilation, 
and its hopes of immortality, with that secret satisfaction 
which it finds in the practice of virtue, and that uneasiness 
which follows in it upon the commission of vice. 

Thirdly, from the nature of the Supreme Being, whose 
justice, goodness, wisdom, and veracity, are all concerned in 
this great point. 

But among these and other excellent arguments for the 
immortality of the soul, there is one drawn from the per- 
petual progress of the soul to its perfection, without a pos- 
sibility of ever arriving at it ; which is a hint that I do not 
remember to have seen opened and improved by others who 
have written on this subject, though it seems to me to carry 
a great weiglit with it. How can it enter into the thoughts 



46 The Sh' Roger de Coverley Papers. 

of man, that the soul, which is capable of such immense 
perfections, and of receiving new improvements to all 
eternity, shall fall away into nothing almost as soon as it 
is created? Are such abilities made for no purpose? A 
brute arrives at a point of perfection that he can never 
pass : in a few years he has all the endowments he is capa- 
ble of; and Avere he to live ten thousand more, would be 
the same thing he is at present. Were a human soul thus 
at a stand in her accomplishments, were her faculties to be 
full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could 
imagine it might fall away insensibly, and drop at once into 
a state of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking being, 
that is in a perpetual progress of improvements, and travel- 
ling on from perfection to perfection, after having just 
looked abroad into tlie works of its Creator, and made a 
few discoveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, 
must perish at her first setting out, and in the very begin- 
ning of her inquiries? 

A man, considered in his present state, seems only sent 
into the world to propagate his kind. He provides himself 
with a successor and immediately quits his post to make 
room for him. 



Hseres 



Hseredem alterius, velut imcla superveuit uudam." 

HOR. EP. II. 2, 175. 

" Heir crowds heir, as in a rolling flood 

Wave urges wave." 



He does not seem born to enjoy life, but to deliver it 
down to others. This is not surprising to consider in ani- 
mals, which are formed for our use, and can finish their 
business in a short life. The silk-worm, after having spun 
her task, lays her eggs and dies. But a man can never have 



The Immortality of the Soul. 47 

taken in his full measure of knowledge, has not time to 
subdue his passions, establish his soul in virtue, and come 
up to the perfection of his nature, before he is hurried off 
the stage. Would an infinitely wise Being make such 
glorious creatures for so mean a purpose? Can he delight 
in the production of such abortive intelligences, such short- 
lived reasonable beings? Would he give us talents that 
are not to be exerted? Capacities that are never to be 
gratified? How can we find that wisdom which shines 
through all his works in the formation of man, without 
looking on this world as only a nursery for the next, and 
believing that the several generations of rational creatures, 
which rise up and disappear in such quick successions, are 
only to receive their first rudiments of existence here, and 
afterwards to be transplanted into a more friendly climate, 
where they may spread and flourish to all eternity? 

There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and trium- 
phant consideration in religion than this of the perpetual 
progress which the soul makes towards the perfection of its 
nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look 
upon the soul as going on from strength to strength, to 
consider that she is to shine for ever with new accessions 
of glory, and brighten to all eternity ; that she will be still 
adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; car- 
ries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition 
which is natural to the mind of man. Nay it must be a 
prospect pleasing to God himself, to see his creation for 
ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him by 
greater degrees of resemblance. 

Methinks this single consideration, of the progress of a 
finite spirit of perfection, will be sufiicient to extinguish 
all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in superior. 
That cherubim, which now appears as a god to a human 



48 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, 

soul, knows very well that the period will come about in 
eternity, when the human soul shall be as perfect as he 
himself now is : nay, when she shall look down upon that 
degree of perfection, as much as she now falls short of it. 
It is true, the higher nature still advances, and by that 
means preserves his distance and superiority in the scale 
of being; but he knows that how high soever the station is 
of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature 
will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same 
degree of glory. 

With what astonishment and veneration may we look 
into our own souls, where there are such hidden stores of 
virtue and knowledge, such inexhausted sources of perfec- 
tion? We know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever 
enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will 
be always in reserve for him. The soul, considered with 
its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that 
may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a pos- 
sibility of touching it: and can there be a thought so 
transporting, as to consider ourselves in these perpetual 
approaches to him, who is not only the standard of perfec- 
tion but of happiness ! — Addison. 



Spectator No. 112. Monday, July 9, 1711 : — Sunday in the country: 
Sir Roger at church. 

'Adavdrovs fxkv irpCiTa Qeovs, vofxiti us dioLKeLTai, 
Tt/xa 

PYTHAG. 

I AM always very well pleased with a country Sunday, 
and think if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human 
institution, it would be the best method that could have 



1^ 

Sunday in the Oountry. 49 

been thought of for the polishing and civilizing of man- 
kind. It is certain, the country people would soon degen- 
erate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not 
such frequent returns of a stated time, in which the whole 
village meet together with their best faces, and in their 
cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon in- 
different subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and 
join together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday 
clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it 
refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it 
puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable 
forms, and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give 
them a figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow 
distinguishes himself as much in the church-yard as a citizen 
does upon the 'Change, the whole parish politics being gen- 
erally discussed in that place either after sermon or before 
the bell rings. 

My friend Sir Koger, being a good church-man, has 
beautified the inside of his church with several texts of his 
own choosing. He has likewise given a handsome pulpit- 
cloth, and railed in the communion-table at his own expense. 
He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he 
found his parishioners very irregular; and that in order to 
make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every 
one of them a hassock and a common-prayer-book; and at 
the same time employed an itinerant singing-master, who 
goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them 
rightly in the tunes of the psalms ; upon which they now 
very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the 
country churches that I have ever heard. 

As Sir Eoger is landlord to the whole congregation, he 
keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to 
sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been 



^ 



50 The Sir 'Roger de Coverley Papers. 

surprised in a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of 
it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody 
else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his ser- 
vants to them. Several other of the old knight's particu- 
larities break out upon these occasions. Sometimes he will 
be lengthening out a verse in the singing psalms, half a 
minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it ; 
sometimes when he is pleased with the matter of his devo- 
tion, he pronounces "Amen" three or four times to the 
same prayer; and sometimes stands up when everybody else 
is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see if any 
of his tenants are missing. 

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old 
friend in the midst of the service, calling out to one John 
Matthews to mind Avhat he was about, and not disturb the 
congregation. This John Matthews it seems is remarkable 
for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his 
heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, 
though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him 
in all circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the 
parish, who are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous 
in his behavior; besides that the general good sense and 
worthiness of his character make his friends observe these 
little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish 
his good qualities. 

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes to 
stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The knight 
walks down from his seat in the chancel between a double 
row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side : 
and every now and then inquires how such an one's Avife, 
or mother, or son, or father does, whom he does not see at 
church; which is understood as a secret reprimand to the 
person that is absent. 



Smiday in the Country, 51 

The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising 
day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that 
answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next 
day for his encouragement; and sometimes accompanies it 
with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has like- 
wise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place : and that 
he may encourage the young fellows to make themselves 
perfect in the church service, has promised upon the death 
of the present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it 
according to merit. 

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chap- 
lain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the 
more remarkable, because the very next village is famous 
for the differences and contentions that rise between the 
parson and the 'squire, who live in a perpetual state of 
war. The parson is always preaching at the 'squire, and 
the 'squire, to be revenged on the parson, never comes to 
church. The 'squire has made all his tenants atheists and 
tithe stealers; while the parson instructs them every Sun- 
day in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to them in 
almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron. 
In short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the 
'squire has not said his prayers either in public or pri- 
vate this half-year; and that the parson threatens him, if 
he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face 
of the whole congregation. 

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, 
are very fatal to the ordinary people; who are so used to 
be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to 
the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of 
learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, 
how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, 
when they know there are several men of five hundred a 
year who do not believe it. — Addison. 



52 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

Spectator No. 113. Tuesday, Jiihj 10, 1711 :— Sir Roger in love. 

Hserent iufixi pectore vultus. 

VIRG. ^N. iv. 4. 

In my first description of the company in which I pass 
most of my time, it may be remembered that I mentioned 
a great affliction which my friend Sir Eoger had met with 
in his youth ; which was no less than a disappointment in 
love. It happened this evening, that we fell into a very 
pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we 
came into it, " It is," quoth the good old man, looking round 
him with a smile, "very hard, that an^^ part of my land 
should be settled upon one who has used me so ill as the 
perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I could not see a 
sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I should 
reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the 
finest hand of any woman in the world. You are to know, 
this was the place wherein I used to muse upon her : and 
by that custom I can never come into it, but the same tender 
sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had actually walked 
with that beautiful creature under these shades. I have 
been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several 
of these trees ; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, 
to attempt the removing of their passion by the methods 
which serve only to imprint it deeper. She has certainly 
the finest hand of any woman in the world." 

Here followed a profound silence: and I was not dis- 
pleased to observe my friend falling so naturally into a 
discourse which I had ever had before taken notice he in- 
dustriously avoided. After a very long pause, he entered 
upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with 
an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I 



Sir Roger in Love. 53 

had ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheer- 
ful mind of his, before it received that stroke which has 
ever since affected his words and actions. But he went on 
as follows. — 

"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and 
resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ances- 
tors who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all 
the methods of hospitality and good neighborhood, for the 
sake of my fame; and in country sports and recreations, 
for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was 
obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my ser- 
vants, officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure 
of a young man (who did not think ill of his own person) 
in taking that public occasion of showing my figure and 
behavior to advantage. You may easily imagine to your- 
self what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, ride well, 
and was very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, 
with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse 
well bitted. I can assure you, I was not a little pleased 
with the kind looks and glances I had from all the balconies 
and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were 
held. But when I came there, a beautiful ci-eature in a 
widow's habit sat in court to hear the event of a cause con- 
cerning her dower. This commanding creature (who was 
born for the destruction of all who behold her), put on such 
a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers of 
all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I war- 
rant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, 
until she was perfectly confused by meeting something so 
wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a murrain 
to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner 
met it but I bowed like a great surprised booby : and know- 
ing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried like a 



54 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

captivated calf as I was, 'Make way for the defendant's 
witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county 
immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the 
fine widow. During the time her cause was upon trial, she 
behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep attention 
to her business, took opportunities to have little billets 
handed to her counsel, then would be in such a pretty con- 
fusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting before so much 
company, that not only I but the Avhole court was prejudiced 
in her favor ; and all that the next heir to her husband had 
to urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when 
it came to her counsel to reply, there was not half so much 
said as every one besides in the court thought he could have 
urged to her advantage. You must understand, sir, this 
perverse woman is one of those unaccountable creatures that 
secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but indulge them- 
selves in no farther consequences. Hence it is that she has 
ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her 
slaves in town to those in the country, according to the 
seasons of the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone 
in the pleasures of friendship. She is always accompanied 
by a confidant, who is witness to her daily protestations 
against our sex, and consequently a bar to her first steps 
towards love, upon the strength of her own maxims and 
declarations. 

" However, I must needs say, this accomplished mistress 
of mine has distinguished me above the rest, and has been 
known to declare Sir Koger de Coverley was the tamest and 
most humane of all the brutes in the country. I was told she 
said so, by one who thought he rallied me; but upon the 
strength of this slender encouragement of being thought 
least detestable, I made new liveries, new-paired my coach- 
JiorseSj sent them all to town to be bitted, and taught to 



Sir Roger in Love. 55 

throw their legs well, and move altogether, before I pre- 
tended to cross the country, and wait upon her. As soon 
as I thought my retinue suitable to the character of my 
fortune and youth, I -set out from hence to make my 
addresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been 
to inflame your wishes, and yet command respect. To 
make her mistress of this art, she has a greater share of 
knowledge, wit, and good sense, than is usual even among 
men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race of 
women. If you will not let her go on with a certain arti- 
fice with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm 
herself with her real charms, and strike you with admira- 
tion instead of desire. It is certain, that if you were to 
behold the whole woman, there is that dignity in her aspect, 
that composure in her motion, that complacency in her 
manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes 
you fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, 
that no country gentleman can approach her without being 
a jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her 
house I was admitted to her presence with great civility; 
at the same time she placed herself to be first seen by me 
in such an attitude, as I think you call the posture of a X3ict- 
ure, that she discovered new charms, and I at last came 
towards her with such an awe as made me speechless. This 
she no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, 
and began a discourse to me concerning love and honor, as 
they both are followed by pretenders, and the real votaries 
to them. When she discussed these points in a discourse, 
which I verily believe was as learned as the best philosopher 
in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether she 
was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these 
important particulars. Her confidant sat by her, and upon 
my being in the last confusion and silence, this malicious 



56 The Sir Roger de Qoverley Papers. 

aid of hers, turning to her, says, I am very glad to observe 
Sir Eoger pauses, upon this subject, and seems resolved to 
deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when he pleases 
to speak. They both kept their countenances, and after I 
had sat half an hour meditating how to behave before such 
profound casuists, I rose up and took my leave. Chance 
has since that time thrown me very often in her way, and 
she as often has directed a discourse to me which I do not 
understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance 
from the most beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is 
thus also she deals with all mankind, and you must make 
love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing 
her. But were she like other women, and that there were 
any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that 
man be, who could converse with a creature — But, after 
all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on some one or other : 
and yet I have been credibly informed — but who can believe 
half that is said ! after she had done speaking to me, she 
put her hand to her bosom, and adjusted her tucker. Then 
she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too 
earnestly. They say she sings excellently: her voice in 
her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. 
You must know I dined with her at a public table the day 
after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in 
the eye of all the gentlemen in the county. She has cer- 
tainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. I can 
assure you, sir, were you to behold her, you would be in 
the same condition; for as her speech is music, her form 
is angelic. But I find I grow irregular while I am talking 
of her, but indeed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned 
at such perfection. Oh, the excellent creature! she is as 
inimitable to all women, as she is inaccessible to all men." 
I found my friend began to rave, and insensibly led him 



The Lnportance of Economy. 57 

towards the house, that we might be joined by some other 
company; and am convinced that the widow is the secret 
cause of all that inconsistency which appears in some parts 
of my friend's discourse; though he has so much command 
of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to 
that of Martial, which one knows not how to render into 
English, Dum tacet lianc loquitur. I shall end this paper 
with that whole epigram, which represents with much 
humor my honest friend's condition : — 

" Quidquicl agit Rufus, nihil est, uisi Nsevia Rufo, 
Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, banc loquitur : 
Csenat, propinat, poscit, negat, anuuit, una est 

Nsevia ; si non sit Nfevia, mutus erit. 
Scriberet hesterna patri cum luce salutem, 
Naevia lux, inquit, Naevia numeu, ave." 



EPIG. I, 69. 



' Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk, 
Still he can nothing but of Najvia talk : 
Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute, 
Still he must speak of Naivia, or be mute. 
He writ to his father, ending with this line, 
I am, my lovely Naivia, ever thine." 



— Steele. 



Spectator No. 114. Wednesday, July 11, 1711: — The Spectator 
moralizes on the value of economy in the conduct of life. 



Paupertatis pudor et fuga 



HOR. EP. I. xviii. 24. 



Economy in our affairs has the same effect upon our 
fortunes which good-breeding has upon our conversation. 
There is a pretending behavior in both cases, which, in- 
stead of making men esteemed, renders them both miserable 
and contemptible. We had yesterday at Sir Roger's a set 
of country gentlemen who dined with him : and after dinner 



58 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

the glass was taken, by those who pleased, pretty plenti- 
fully. Among others 1 observed a person of a tolerable 
good aspect, who seemed to be more greedy of liquor than 
any of" the company, and yet methought he did not taste 
it with delight. As he grew warm, he was suspicious of 
everything that was said, and as he advanced towards being 
fuddled his humor grew worse. At the same time his 
bitterness seemed to be rather an inward dissatisfaction in 
his own mind, than any dislike he had taken to the com- 
I)any. Upon hearing his name, I knew him to be a gentle- 
man of a considerable fortune in this county, but greatly 
in debt. What gives the uuhappy man this peevishness of 
spirit is, that his estate is dipped, and is eating out with 
usury; and yet he has not the heart to sell any part of it. 
His proud stomach, at the cost of restless nights, constant 
inquietudes, danger of affronts, and a thousand nameless 
inconveniences, preserves this canker in his fortune, rather 
than it shall be said he is a man of fewer hundreds a year 
than he has been commonly reputed. Thus he endures the 
torment of poverty, to avoid the name of being less rich. 
If you go to his house, you see great plenty ; but served in 
a manner that shows it is all unnatural, and that the mas- 
ter's mind is not at home. There is a certain waste and 
carelessness in the air of everything, and the whole appears 
but a covered indigence, a magnificent poverty. That neat- 
ness and cheerfulness, which attends the table of him who 
lives within compass, is wanting, and exchanged for a liber- 
tine way of service in all about him. 

This gentleman's conduct, though a very common way of 
management, is as ridiculous as that officer's would be, who 
had but few men under his command, and should take the 
charge of an extent of country rather than of a small pass. 
To pay for, personate, and keep in a man's hands a greater 



The Lnportance of Economy. 59 

estate than he really has, is of all others the most unpar- 
donable vanity, and must in the end reduce the man who is 
guilty of it to dishonor. Yet if we look round us in any 
county of Great Britain, we shall see many in this fatal 
error; if theft may be called by so soft a name, which pro- 
ceeds from a false shame of appearing what they really are, 
when the contrary behavior would in a short time advance 
them to the condition which they pretend to. 

Laertes has fifteen hundred pounds a year; which is 
mortgaged for six thousand pounds; but it is impossible to 
convince him, that if he sold as much as would pay off that 
debt, ,he would save four shillings in the pound, which he 
gives for the vanity of being the reputed master of it. Yet 
if Laertes did this, he would perhaps be easier in his own 
fortune; but then Irus, a fellow of yesterday, who has but 
twelve hundred a year, would be his equal. Rather than 
this shall be, Laertes goes on to bring well-born beggars 
into the world, and every twelvemonth charges his estate 
with at least one year's rent more by the birth of a child. 

Laertes and Irus are neighbors, whose ways of living 
are an abomination to each other. Irus is moved by the 
fear of poverty, and Laertes by the shame of it. Though 
the motive of action is of so near affinity in both, and may 
be resolved into this, " That to each of them poverty is the 
greatest of all evils," yet are their manners widely different. 
Shame of poverty makes Laertes launch into unnecessary 
equipage, vain expense, and lavish entertainments. Pear 
of poverty makes Irus allow himself only plain necessaries, 
appear without a servant, sell his own corn, attend his 
laborers, and be himself a laborer. Shame of poverty 
makes Laertes go every day a step nearer to it; and fear 
of poverty stirs up Irus to make every day some further 
progress from it. 



60 The Sir Royer de Coverlet/ Papers. 

These different motives produce the excesses which men 
are guilty of in the negligence of and provision for them- 
selves. Usury, stock-jobbing, extortion, and oppression, 
have their seed in the dread of want; and vanity, riot, and 
prodigality, from the shame of it; but both these excesses 
are infinitely below the pursuit of a reasonable creature. 
After we have taken care to command so much as is neces- 
sary for maintaining ourselves in the order of men suitable 
to our character, the care of superfluities is a vice no less 
extravagant, than the neglect of necessaries would have 
been before. 

Certain it is, that they are both out of nature, when she 
is followed with reason and good sense. It is from this 
reflection that I always read Mr. Cowley with the greatest 
pleasure. His magnanimity is as much above that of other 
considerable men, as his understanding; and it is a true 
distinguishing spirit in the elegant author who published 
his works, to dwell so much upon the temper of his mind, 
and the moderation of his desires. By this means he has 
rendered his friend as amiable as famous. That state of 
life which bears the face of poverty Avith Mr. Cowley's great 
vulgar, is admirably described; and it is no small satisfac- 
tion to those of the same turn of desire, that he produces 
the authority of the wisest men of the best age of the world, 
to strengthen his opinion of the ordinary pursuits of man- 
kind. 

It would methinks be no ill maxim of life, if, according 
to that ancestor of Sir Koger whom I lately mentioned, 
every man would point to himself what sum he would re- 
solve not to exceed. He might by this means cheat himself 
into a tranquillity on this side of that expectation, or con- 
vert what he should get above it to nobler uses than his 
own pleasures or necessities. This temper of mind would 



Hunting as an Exercise. 61 

exempt a man from an ignorant envy of restless men above 
him, and a more inexcusable contempt of bappy men below 
liim. This would be sailing by some compass, living with 
some design; but to be eternally bewildered in prospects 
of future gain, and putting on unnecessary armor against 
improbable blows of fortune, is a mechanic being which 
has not good sense for its direction, but is carried on by 
a sort of acquired instinct towards things below our con- 
sideration, and unworthy our esteem. It is possible that 
the tranquillity I now enjoy at Sir Roger's may have created 
in me this way of thinking, which is so abstracted from the 
common relish of the world; but as I am now in a pleasing 
arbor surrounded with a beautiful landscape, I find no 
inclination so strong as to continue in these mansions, so 
remote from the ostentatious scenes of life; and am at 
this present writing philosopher enough to conclude with 
Mr. Cowley : — 

" If e'er ambition did my fancy cheat, 
With any wish so mean as to he great ; 
Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove 
The humble blessings of that life I love." 

— Steele. 



spectator No. 115. Thursday, July 12, VJW '. — Exercise the best 
means of preserving health : Sir Roger as a hunter. 

Ut sit mens sana in corpore sano. 

juv. SAT. X. 356. 

Bodily labor is of two kinds, either that which a man 
submits to for his livelihood, or that which he undergoes 
for his pleasure. The latter of them generally changes the 
name of labor for that of exercise, but differs only from 
ordinary labor as it rises from another motive. 



62 The Sir Roger de Ooverley Papers. 

A country life abounds in both these kinds of labor, and 
for that reason gives a man a greater stock of health, and 
consequently a more perfect enjoyment of himself, than any 
other way of life. I consider the body as a system of tubes 
and glands, or, to use a more rustic phrase, a bundle of 
pipes and strainers, fitted to one another after so wonderful 
a manner as to make a proper engine for the soul to work 
with. This description does not only comprehend the 
bowels, bones, tendons, veins, nerves, and arteries, but 
every muscle and every ligature, which is a composition of 
fibres, that are so many imperceptible tubes or pipes inter- 
woven on all sides with invisible glands or strainers. 

This general idea of a human body, without considering 
it in its niceties of anatomy, lets us see how absolutely 
necessary labor is for the right preservation of it. There 
must be frequent motions and agitations, to mix, digest, 
and separate the juices contained in it, as well as to clear 
and cleanse that infinitude of pipes and strainers of which 
it is composed, and to give their solid parts a more firm 
and lasting tone. Labor or exercise ferments the humors, 
casts them into their proper channels, throws off redundan- 
cies, and helps nature in those secret distributions, without 
which the body cannot subsist in its vigor, nor the soul 
act with cheerfulness. 

I might here mention the effects which this has upon all 
the faculties of the mind, by keeping the understanding 
clear, the imagination untroubled, and refining those spirits 
that are necessary for the proper exertion of our intellectual 
faculties, daring the present laws of union between soul 
and body. It is to a neglect in this particular that we must 
ascribe the spleen, which is so frequent in men of studious 
and sedentary tempers, as well as the vapors to which those 
of the other sex are so often subject. 



' Hunting as an Exercise. 63 

Had not exercise been absolutely necessary for our well- 
being, nature would not have made the body so proper for 
it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and such a 
pliancy to every part, as necessarily produce those com- 
pressions, extensions, contortions, dilatations, and all other 
kinds of motions that are necessary for the preservation of 
such a system of tubes and glands as has been before men- 
tioned. And that Ave might not want inducements to engage 
us in such an exercise of the body as is proper for its wel- 
fare, it is so ordered, that nothing valuable can be procured 
without it. Not to mention riches and honor, even food 
and raiment are not to be come at without the toil of the 
hands and sweat of the brows. Providence furnishes mate- 
rials, but expects that we should work them up ourselves. 
The earth must be labored before it gives its increase; 
and when it is forced into its several products, how many 
hands must they pass through before they are fit for use ! 
Manufactures, trade, and agriculture, naturally employ more 
than nineteen parts of the species in twenty; and as for 
those who are not obliged to labor, by the condition in 
which they are born, they are more miserable than the rest 
of mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that volun- 
tary labor which goes by the name of exercise. 

My friend Sir Roger has been an indefatigable man in 
business of this kind, and has hung several parts of his 
house with the trophies of his former labors. The walls 
of his great hall are covered with the horns of several kinds 
of deer that he has killed in the chase, which he thinks the 
most valuable furniture of his house, as they afford him 
frequent topics of discourse, and show that he has not 
been idle. At the lower end of the hall is a large otter's 
skin stuffed with hay which his mother ordered to be hung 
up in that manner, and the knight looks upon with great 



64 Tlie Sir Roger de Ooverley Papers. 

satisfaction, because it seems he was but nine years old 
when his dog killed him. A little room adjoining to the 
hall is a kind of arsenal filled with guns of several sizes 
and inventions, with which the knight has made great 
havoc in the woods, and destroyed many thousands of 
pheasants, partridges, and woodcocks. His stable-doors 
are patched with noses that belonged to foxes of the 
knight's own hunting down. Sir Roger showed me one 
of them that for distinction's sake has a brass nail struck 
through it, which cost him above fifteen hours' riding, 
carried him through half a dozen counties, killed him a 
brace of geldings, and lost above half his dogs. This the 
knight looks upon as one of the greatest exploits of his life. 
The perverse widow, whom I have given some account of, 
was the death of several foxes ; for Sir Eoger has told me 
that in the course of his amours he patched the western 
door of his stable. Whenever the widow was cruel, the 
foxes were sure to pay for it. In proportion as his passion 
for the widow abated, and old age came on, he left off fox- 
hunting; but a hare is not yet safe that sits within ten 
miles of his house. 

There is no kind of exercise which I would so recommend 
to my readers of both sexes, as this of riding, as there is 
none which so much conduces to health, and is every way 
accommodated to the body, according to the idea which I 
have given of it. Doctor Sydenham is very lavish in its 
praises; and if the English reader will see the mechanical 
effects of it described at length, he may find them in a book 
published not many years since, under the title of the 
"Medicina Gymnastica." For my own part, when T am in 
town, for want of these opportunities, I exercise myself an 
hour every morning upon a dumb-bell that is placed in a 
corner of my room, and pleases me the more because it does 



The Speetato?' in the Hunting -field. 65 

everything T require of it in tlie most profound silence. 
My landlady and her daughters are so well acquainted with 
my hours of exercise, that they never come into my room 
to disturb me whilst I am ringing. 

When I was some years younger than I am at present, I 
used to employ myself in a more laborious diversion, which 
I learned from a Latin treatise of exercises that is written 
with great erudition; it is there called the aKto/xaxta, or the 
fighting with a man's own shadow, and consists in the 
brandishing of two short sticks grasped in each hand, and 
loaden with plugs of lead at either end. This opens the 
chest, exercises the limbs, and gives a man all the pleasure 
of boxing, without the blows. I could wish that several 
learned men would lay out that time which they employ in 
controversies and disputes about nothing, in this method of 
fighting with their own shadows. It might conduce very 
much to evaporate the spleen, which makes them uneasy 
to the public as well as to themselves. 

To conclude, as I am a compound of soul and body, I 
consider myself as obliged to a double scheme of duties; 
and think I have not fulfilled the business of the day when 
I do not thus employ the one in labor and exercise, as well 
as the other in study and contemplation. — Addison. 



Spectator No. Ii6. Friday, July 13, 1711 : — The Spectator accom- 
panies Sir Roger to the hunting-field. 

Vocat ingenti clamore Cithseron, 



Taygetique canes 

VIRG. GEORG. iii. 43. 

Those who have searched into human nature observe, 
that nothing so much shows the nobleness of the soul, as 



66 The Si?^ Roger de Coverley Papers. 

that its felicity consists in action. Every man has such an 
active principle in him, that he will find out something to 
employ himself upon, in whatever place or state of life he 
is posted. I have heard of a gentleman who was under 
close confinement in the Bastile seven years ; during which 
time he amused himself in scattering a few small pins about 
his chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them in 
different figures on the arm of a great chair. He often told 
his friends afterwards, that unless he had found out this 
piece of exercise, he verily believed he should have lost 
his senses. 

After what has been said, I need not inform my readers, 
that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope they are at 
present pretty well acquainted, has in his youth gone 
through the whole course of those rural diversions which 
the country abounds in; and which seem to be extremely 
well suited to that laborious industry a man may observe 
here in a far greater degree than in towns and cities. I 
have before hinted at some of my friend's exploits ; he has 
in his youthful days taken forty coveys of partridges in a 
season; and tired many a salmon with a line consisting but 
of a single hair. The constant thanks and good wishes of 
the neighborhood always attended him, on account of his 
Temarkable enmity towards foxes; having destroyed more 
pf jihose vermin in one year, than it was thought the whole 
country could have produced. Indeed the knight does not 
scruple to own amongst his most intimate friends, that in 
order to establish his reputation this way, he has secretly 
sent for great numbers, of them out of other counties, which 
he used to turn loose about the country by night, that he 
might the better signalize himself in their destruction the 
next day. His hunting horses were the finest and best 
jnanaged in all these parts. His tenants are still full of 



Tlie Spectator in the Hunting -field. 67 

the praises of a gray stone-horse that unhappily staked 
himself several years since, and was buried with great 
solemnity in the orchard. 

Sir Eoger being at present too old for fox-hunting, to 
keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles, and 
got a pack of stop-hounds. What these want in speed, he 
endeavors to make amends for by the deepness of their 
mouths, and the variety of their notes, which are suited in 
such a manner to each other, that the whole cry makes up 
a complete concert. He is so nice in this particular, that 
a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound 
the other day, the knight returned it by the servant with a 
great many expressions of civility ; but desired him to tell 
his master, that the dog he had sent was indeed a most 
excellent bass, but that at present he only wanted a counter- 
tenor. Could I believe my friend had ever read Shake- 
speare, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint 
from Theseus, in the "Midsummer Night's Dream ":^ 

" My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 
So flu'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung 
With ears that sweep away the morning dew, 
Crook-knee'd and dew-lap'd like Tliessalian hulls, 
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, 
Each under each. A cry more tunable 
Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn." 

Sir Roger is so keen in this sport, that he has been out 
almost every day since I came down; and upon the chap- 
lain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on 
yesterday morning to make one of the company. I was 
extremely pleased as we rid along, to observe the general 
benevolence of all the neighborhood towards my friend. 
The farmers' sons thought themselves happy if they could 
open a gate for the good old knight as he passed by; which 



68 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

lie generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind 
inquiry after their fathers or uncles. 

After Ave had rid about a mile from home, we came upon 
a large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat. They had 
done so for some time, when, as I was at a little distance 
from the rest of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a 
small furze-brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked 
the way she took, which I endeavored to make the com- 
pany sensible of by extending my arm; but to no purpose, 
till Sir Eoger, who knows that none of my extraordinary 
motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me, if 
puss was gone that way? Upon my answering yes, he 
immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the 
scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country- 
fellows muttering to his companion, " That 'twas a wonder 
they had not lost all their sport, for want of the silent 
gentleman crying 'Stole away.' " 

This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me with- 
draw to a rising ground, from whence I could have the 
pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping 
in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them 
above a mile behind her; but I was pleased to find, that 
instead of running straight forwards, or, in hunter's lan- 
guage, "flying the country," as I was afraid she might have 
done, she wheeled about, and described a sort of circle round 
the hill where I had taken my station, in such a manner as 
gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could see her 
first pass by, and the dogs some time afterwards unravelling 
the whole track she had made, and following her through 
all her doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observ- 
ing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each 
particular hound, according to the character he had acquired 
amongst them. If they were at a fault, and an old hound 



The Spectator in the Hunting -field. 69 

of reputation opened but once, lie was immediately followed 
by the whole cry; while a raw dog, or one who was a noted 
liar, might have yelped his heart out, without being taken 
notice of. 

The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, 
and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the 
place where she was at first started. The dogs pursued 
her, and these were followed by the jolly knight, who rode 
upon a white gelding, encompassed by his tenants and ser- 
vants, and cheering his hounds with all the gaiety of five- 
and-twenty. One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told 
me, that he was sure the chase was almost at an end, because 
the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed 
the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a 
large field just under us, followed by the full cry In View. 
I must confess the brightness of the weather, the cheerful- 
ness of everything around me, the chiding of the hounds, 
which was returned upon us in a double echo from two 
neighboring hills, with the hallooing of the sportsmen, 
and the sounding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most 
lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure 
it was innocent. If I was under any concern, it was on the 
account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent, and 
almost within the reach of her enemies ; when the huntsman 
getting forward threw down his pole before the dogs. They 
were now within eight yards of that game which they had . 
been pursuing for almost as many hours; yet on the signal 
before mentioned, they all made a sudden stand, and though 
they continued opening as much as before, durst not once 
attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same time Sir 
Koger rode forward, and alighting took up the hare in his 
arms; which he soon delivered up to one of his servants 
with an order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in 



70 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

his great orchard; where it seems he has several of these 
prisoners of war, who live together in a very comfortable 
captivity. I was highly pleased to see the discipline of 
the pack, and the good nature of the knight, who could not 
find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him 
so much diversion. 

As we were returning home, I remembered that Monsieur 
Pascal, in his most excellent discourse on the "Misery of 
Man," tells us, that all our endeavors after greatness pro- 
ceed from nothing but a desire of being surrounded by a 
multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder us from 
looking into ourselves, which is a view we cannot bear. 
He afterwards goes on to show that our love of sports comes 
from the same reason, and is particularly severe upon hunt- 
ing. * "What," says he, "unless it be to drown thought, 
can make men throw away so much time and pains upon a 
silly animal, which they might buy cheaper in the market? " 
The foregoing reflection is certainly just, when a man suffers 
his whole mind to be drawn into his sports, and altogether 
loses himself in the woods; but does not affect those who 
propose a far more laudable end from this exercise, I mean, 
the preservation of health, and keeping all the organs of 
the soul in a condition to execute her orders. Had that 
incomparable person, whom I last quoted, been a little more 
indulgent to himself in this point, the world might probably 
have enjoyed him much longer; whereas through too great 
an application to his studies in his youth, he contracted 
that ill habit of body, which, after a tedious sickness, car- 
ried him off in the fortieth year of his age ; and the whole 
history we have of his life till that time, is but one con- 
tinued account of the behavior of a noble soul struggling 
under innumerable pains and distempers. 

For my own part, I intend to hunt twice a week during 



Moll White, the Witch. 71 

my stay with Sir Roger; and shall prescribe the moderate 
use of this exercise to all my country friends, as the best 
kind of physic for mending a bad constitution, and pre- 
serving a good one. 

I cannot do this better, than in the following lines out 
of Mr. Dryden : — 

" The first physicians by debauch were made ; 
Excess began, and sloth sustains the trade. 
By cliase our long-liv'd fatliers earn'd their food ; 
Toil strung the nerves, and purify'd the blood ; 
But we their sons, a pampered race of men. 
Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. 
Better to hunt in fields for health nnbought, 
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught; 
The wise for cure on exercise depend : 
God never made his work for man to mend." 

— Budgell. 



Spectator No. 117. Saturday, July 14, 1711 : — The Spectator dis- 
cusses ivitchcraft : with Sir Roger he visits Moll White. 

Ipsi sibi somnia fingunt. 

viRG. ECL. viii. 108. 

There are some opinions in which a man should stand 
neuter, without engaging his assent to one side or the other. 
Such a hovering faith as this, which refuses to settle upon 
any determination, is absolutely necessary in a mind that 
is careful to avoid errors and prepossessions. When the 
arguments press equally on both sides in matters that are 
indifferent to us, the safest method is to give up ourselves 
to neither. 

It is with this temper of mind that I consider the subject 
of witchcraft. When I hear the relations that are made 



72 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

from all parts of the world, not only from Norway and 
Lapland, from the East and West Indies, but from every 
particular nation in Europe, I cannot forbear thinking that 
there is such an intercourse and commerce with evil spirits, 
as that which we express by the name of witchcraft. But 
when I consider that the ignorant and credulous parts of 
the world abound most in these relations, and that the per- 
sons among us who are supposed to engage in such an 
infernal commerce, are people of a weak understanding 
and crazed imagination, and at the same time reflect upon 
the many impostures and delusions of this nature that have 
been detected in all ages, I endeavor to suspend my belief 
till I hear m-ore certain accounts than any which have yet 
come to my knowledge. In short, when I consider the 
question, whether there are such persons in the world as 
those we call witches, my mind is divided between the two 
opposite opinions, or rather (to speak my thoughts freely) 
I believe in general that there is, and has been, such a 
thing as witchcraft ; but at the same time can give no credit 
to any particular instance of it. 

I am engaged in this speculation, by some occurrences 
that I met with yesterday, which I shall give my reader an 
account of at large. As I was walking with my friend Sir 
Eoger by the side of one of his woods, an old woman applied 
herself to me for my charity. Her dress and figure put me 
in mind of the following description of Otway : — 

" In a close lane as I pursu'd my journey, 
I spy'd a wrinkled hag, with age grown double, 
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself. 
Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall'd and red ; 
Cold palsy shook her head ; her hands seem'd wither'd; 
And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt 
The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging, 
Which serv'd to keep her carcase from the cold : 



Moll White, the Witch. 73 

So there was nothing of a piece about her. 
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patch 'd 
AVith different colour 'd rags, black, red, white, yellow, 
And seeni'd to speak variety of wretchedness." 

As I was musing on this description, and comparing it 
with th^ object before me, the knight told me, that this 
very old woman had the reputation of a witch all over the 
country, that her lips were observed to be always in motion, 
and that there was not a switch about her house which her 
neighbors did not believe had carried her several hundreds 
of miles. If she chanced to stumble, they always found 
sticks or straws that lay in the figure of a cross before her. 
If she made any mistake at church, and cried "Amen" in 
a wrong place, they never failed to conclude that she was 
saying her prayers backwards. There was not a maid in 
the parish that would take a pin of her, though she should 
offer a bag of money with it. She goes by the name of 
Moll White, and has made the country ring with several 
imaginary exploits which are palmed upon her. If the 
dairy-maid does not make her butter come so soon as she 
would have it, Moll White is at the bottom of the churn. 
If a horse sweats in the stable, Moll White has been upon 
his back. If a hare makes an unexpected escape from the 
hounds, the huntsman curses Moll White. "Nay," says 
Sir Roger, "I have known the master of the pack, upon 
such an occasion, send one of his servants to see if Moll 
White had been out that morning." 

This account raised my curiosity so far, that I begged 
my friend Sir Eoger to go with me into her hovel, which 
stood in a solitary corner under the side of the wood. 
Upon our first entering. Sir Eoger winked to me, and 
pointed at something that stood behind the door, which, 
upon looking that way, I found to be an old broom-staff. 



74 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

At the same time he whispered me in the ear to take notice 
of a tabby cat that sat in the chimney-corner, which, as the 
old knight told me, lay under as bad a report as Moll White 
herself; for besides that Moll is said often to accompany 
her in the same shape, the cat is reported to have spoken 
twice or thrice in her life, and to have played several pranks 
above the capacity of an ordinary cat. 

I was secretly concerned to see human nature in so much 
wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same time could not 
forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who is a little puzzled 
about the old woman, advising her as a justice of peace to 
avoid all communication with the devil, and never to hurt 
any of her neighbor's cattle. We concluded our visit with 
a bounty, which was very acceptable. 

In our return home Sir Eoger told me, that old Moll had 
been often brought before him for making children spit pins, 
and giving maids the nightmare; and that the country 
people would be tossing her into a pond, and trying experi- 
ments with her every day, if it was not for him and his 
chaplain. 

I have since found upon inquiry, that Sir Eoger was 
several times staggered with the reports that had been 
brought him concerning this old woman, and would fre- 
quently have bound her over to the county sessions, had not 
his chaplain with much ado persuaded him to the contrary. 

I have been the inore particular in this account, because 
I hear there is scarce a village in England that has not a 
Moll White in it. When an old woman begins to dote, and 
grows chargeable to a parish, she is generally turned into 
a witch, and fills the whole country with extravagant fan- 
cies, imaginary distempers, and terrifying dreams. In the 
meantime, the poor wretch that is the innocent occasion of 
so many evils begins to be frightened at herself, and some- 



How Confidants prevent the Mahing of Matches. 75 

times confesses secret commerces and familiarities that her 
imagination forms in a delirious old age. This frequently 
cuts off charity from the greatest objects of compassion, 
and inspires people with a malevolence towards those poor 
decrepit ^mrts of our species in whom human nature is 
defaced by infirmity and dotage. — Addison. 



Spectator No. Ii8. Mondaij, July 16, 1711-: — Sir Roger discourses, 
as a level', of the mischief that comes from confidants. 



Hseret lateri lethalis arundo. 

VIRG. ^N. iv. 73. 

This agreeable seat is surrounded with so many pleasing 
walks, which are struck out of a wood, in the midst of 
which the house stands, that one can hardly ever be weary 
of rambling from one labyrinth of delight to another. To 
one used to live in a city the charms of the country are so 
exquisite, that the mind is lost in a certain transport which 
raises us above ordinary life, and yet is not strong enough 
to be inconsistent with tranquillity. This state of mind 
was I in, ravished with the murmur of waters, the whisper 
of breezes, the singing of birds ; and whether I looked up 
to the heavens, down on the earth, or turned to the pros- 
pects around me, still struck with new sense of pleasure; 
when I found by the voice of my friend, who walked by 
me, that we had insensibly strolled into the grove sacred 
to the widow. "This woman," says he, "is of all others 
the most unintelligible ; she either designs to marry, or she 
does not. What is the most perplexing of all is, that she 
doth not either say to her lovers she has any resolution 
against that condition of life in general, or that she ban- 
ishes them; but conscious of her own merit she permits 



76 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

their addresses, without fear of any ill consequence, or 
want of respect, from their rage or despair. She has that 
in her aspect, against which it is impossible to offend. A 
man whose thoughts are constantly bent upon so agreeable 
an object, must be excused if the ordinary occurrences in 
conversation are below his attention. I call her indeed per- 
verse, but, alas! why do I call her so? because her superior 
merit is such, that I cannot approach her without awe, that 
my heart is checked by too much esteem ; I am angry that 
her charms are not more accessible, that I am more inclined 
to worship than salute her. How often have I wished her 
unhappy, that I might have an opportunity of serving her? 
And how often troubled in that very imagination, at giving 
her the pain of being obliged? Well, I have led a miser- 
able life in secret upon her account; but fancy she would 
have condescended to have some regard for me, if it had 
not been for that watchful animal her confidant. 

'^ Of all persons under the sun, " (continued he, calling me 
by my name), "be sure to set a mark upon confidants; they 
are of all people the most impertinent. What is most 
pleasant to observe in them, is, that they assume to them- 
selves the merit of the persons whom they have in their 
custody. Orestilla is a great fortune, and in wonderful 
danger of surprises, therefore full of suspicions of the least 
indifferent thing, particularly careful of new acquaintance, 
and of growing too familiar with the old. Themista, her 
favorite woman, is every whit as careful of whom she 
speaks to, and what she says. Let the ward be a beauty, 
her confidant shall treat you with an air of distance; let 
her be a fortune, and she assumes the suspicious behavior 
of her friend and patroness. Thus it is that very many of 
our unmarried women of distinction are to all intents and 
purposes married, except the consideration of different 



Hoiv Confidants prevent the Makincf of Matches. 11 

» 

sexes. They are directly under the conduct of their whis- 
perer ; and think they are in a state of freedom, while they 
can prate with one of these attendants of all men in general, 
and still avoid the man they most like. You do not see 
one heiress in a hundred whose fate does not turn upon 
this circumstance of choosing a confidant. Thus it is that 
the lady is addressed to, presented, and flattered, only by 
proxy, in her woman. In my case, how is it possible 
that . . . ." Sir Eoger was proceeding in his harangue, 
when we heard the voice of one speaking very importu- 
nately, and repeating these words, "What, not one smile?" 
We followed the sound till we came to a close thicket, on 
the other side of which we saw a young woman sitting as 
it were in a personated sullenness just over a transparent 
fountain. Opposite to her stood Mr. William, Sir Roger's 
master of the game. The knight whispered me, "Hist, 
these are lovers." The huntsman looking earnestly at the 
shadow of the young maiden in the stream, " Oh, thou dear 
picture, if thou couldst remain there in the absence of that 
fair creature whom you represent in the water, how will- 
ingly could I stand here satisfied for ever, without troubling 
my dear Betty herself with any mention of her unfortunate 
William, whom she is angry with! But, alas! when she 
pleases to be gone, thou wilt also vanish. . . . Yet let 
me talk to thee while thou dost stay. Tell my dearest 
Betty thou dost not more depend upon her, than does her 
William : her absence will make away with me as well as 
thee. If she offers to remove thee, I will jump into these 
waves to lay hold on thee ; herself, her own dear person, I 
must never embrace again. . . . Still do you hear me 
without one smile. ... It is too much to bear. ..." 
He had no sooner spoke these words, but he made an offer 
of throwing himself into the water : at which his mistress 



78 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

started up, and at the next instant he jumped across the 
fountain, and met her in an embrace. She, half recovering 
from her fright, said in the most charming voice imagi- 
nable, and with a tone of complaint, " I thought how well 
you would drown yourself. No, no, you will not drown 
yourself till you have taken your leave of Susan Holiday." 
The huntsman, with a tenderness that spoke the most pas- 
sionate love, and with his cheek close to hers, whispered 
the softest vows of fidelity in her ear, and cried, " Do not, 
my dear, believe a word Kate Willow says; she is spiteful, 
and makes stories, because she loves to hear me talk to her- 
self for 3^our sake." Look you there, quoth Sir Koger, 
do you see there, all mischief comes from confidants ! but 
let us not interrupt them ; the maid is honest, and the man 
dare not be otherwise, for he knows I loved her father : I 
will interpose in this matter, and hasten the wedding. 
Kate Willow is a witty mischievous wench in the neigh- 
borhood, who was a beauty; and makes me hope I shall 
see the perverse widow in her condition. She was so flip- 
pant with her answers to all the honest fellows that came 
near her, and so very vain of her beauty, that she has 
valued herself upon her charms till they are ceased. She 
therefore now makes it her business to prevent other young 
women from being more discreet than she was herself : how- 
ever, the saucy thing said the other day well enough, " Sir 
Roger and I must make a match, for we are both despised 
by those we loved." The hussy has a great deal of power 
wherever she comes, and has her share of cunning. 

However, when I reflect upon this woman, I do not know 
whether in the main I am the worse for having loved her : 
whenever she is recalled to my imagination, my youth 
returns, and I feel a forgotten warmth in my veins. This 
aflliction in my life has streaked all my conduct with a 



Toivn and Country Planners. 79 

softness, of which I shoukl otherwise have been incapable. 
It is owing, perhaps, to this clear image in my heart, that 
I am apt to relent, that I easily forgive, and that many 
desirable things are grown into my temper, which I shonld 
not have arrived at by better motives than the thought of 
being one day hers. I am pretty well satisfied snch a pas- 
sion as I have had, is never well cnred; and between you 
and me, I am often apt to imagine it has had some whim- 
sical effect upon my brain; for I frequently find, that in 
my most serious discourse I let fall some comical familiarity 
of speech or odd phrase that make^ the company laugh. 
However, I cannot but allow she is a most excellent woman. 
When she is in the country I warrant she does not run into 
dairies, but reads upon the nature of plants : she has a glass 
bee-hive, and comes into the garden out of books to see 
them work, and observe the policies of their common- 
wealth. She understands everything. I would give ten 
pounds to hear her argue with my friend Sir Andrew Pree- 
port about trade. No, no, for all she looks so innocent as 
it were, take my word for it she is no fool. — Steele. 



Spectator Wo. 119. Tuesday, July 17, 1711 : — Apropos of ichat he 
observes at Sir Roger's, the Spectator discourses of the different man- 
ners of town and country. 

Urbem quam dicunt Rom am, Meliboee, putavi 

Stultus ego huic nostrse similem 

VIRG. ECL. i. 20. 

The first and most obvious reflections which arise in a 
man who changes the city for the country, are upon the 
different manners of the people whom he meets with in 
those two different scenes of life. By manners, I do not 



80 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pcqjers. 

mean morals, but behavior and good breeding, as they 
show themselves in the town and in the country. 

And here, iji the first place, I must observe a very great 
revolution that has happened in this article of good breed- 
ing. Several obliging deferences, condescensions, and sub- 
missions, with many outward forms and ceremonies that 
accompany them, were first of all brought up among the 
politer part of mankind, who lived in courts and cities, and 
distinguished themselves from the rustic x^art of the species 
(who on all occasions acted bluntly and naturally) by such 
a mutual complaisance and intercourse of civilities. These 
forms of conversation by degrees multiplied and grew 
troublesome; the modish world found too great a con- 
straint in them, and have therefore thrown most of them 
aside. Conversation, like the Romish religion, was so 
encumbered with show and ceremony, that it stood in need 
of a reformation to retrench its superfluities, and restore it 
to its natural good sense and beauty. At present therefore 
an unconstrained carriage, and a certain openness of be- 
havior, are the height of good breeding. The fashionable 
world is grown free and easy; our manners sit more loose 
upon us. Nothing is so modish as an agreeable negligence. 
In a word, good breeding shows itself most where to an 
ordinary eye it appears the least. 

If after this we look on the people of mode in the country, 
we find in them the manners of the last age. They have no 
sooner fetched themselves up to the fashions of the polite 
world, but the town has dropped them, and are nearer to 
the first state of nature than to those refinements which 
formerly reigned in the court, and still prevail in the 
country. One may now know a man that never conversed 
in the world, by his excess of good breeding. A polite 
country esquire shall make you as many bows in half an 



Toivn and QoiLntry Manners. 81 

hour, as would serve a courtier for a week. There is in- 
linitely more to do about place and precedency in a meeting 
of justices' wives tlian in an assembly of duchesses. 

This rural politeness is very troublesome to a man of my 
temper, who generally take the chair that is next me, and 
walk first or last, in the front or in the rear, as chance 
directs. I have known my friend Sir Eoger's dinner almost 
cold before the company could adjust the ceremonial, and 
be prevailed upon to sit down ; and have heartily pitied my 
old friend, when I have seen him forced to pick and cull 
his guests, as they sat at the several parts of his table, that 
he might drink their healths according to their respective 
ranks and qualities. Honest Will Wimble, who I should 
have thought had been altogether uninfected with ceremony, 
gives me abundance of trouble in this particular. Though 
he has been fishing all the morning, he will not help him- 
self at dinner until I am served. AVhen we are going out 
of the hall, he runs behind me ; and last night as we were 
walking in the fields, stopped short at a stile until I came 
up to it, and upon my making signs to him to get over, 
told me with a serious smile, that sure I believed they had 
no manners in the country. 

There has happened another revolution in the point of 
good breeding, which relates to the conversation among 
men of mode, and which I cannot but look upon as very 
extraordinary. It was certainly one of the first distinc- 
tions of a well-bred man to express everything that had the 
most remote appearance of being obscene, in modest terms 
and distant phrases; whilst the clown, who had no such 
delicacy of conception and expression, clothed his ideas in 
those plain homely terms that are the most obvious and 
natural. This kind of good manners was perhaps carried 
to an excess, so as to make conversation too stiff, formal, 



82 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

and precii^e ; for which reason (as hypocrisy in one age is 
generally succeeded by atheism in another) conversation is 
in a great measure relapsed into the first extreme; so that, 
at present, several of our men of the town, and particularly 
those who have been polished in France, make use of the 
most coarse uncivilized words in our language, and utter 
themselves often in such a manner as a clown would blush 
to hear. 

This infamous piece of good breeding, which reigns 
among the coxcombs of the town, has not yet made its way 
into the country ; and as it is impossible for such an irra- 
tional way of conversation to last long among a people that 
make any profession of religion, or show of modesty, if the 
country gentlemen get into it, they will certainly be left in 
the lurch. Their good breeding will come too late to them, 
and they will be thought a parcel of lewd clowns, while 
they fancy themselves talking together like men of wit 
and pleasure. 

As the two points of good breeding which I have hitherto 
insisted upon regard behavior and conversation, there is a 
third which turns upon dress. In this too the country are 
very much behind hand. The rural beaus are not yet got 
out of the fashion that took place at the time of the Ke vo- 
lution, but ride about the country in red coats and laced 
hats, while the women in many parts are still trying to 
outvie one another in the height of their head-dresses. 

But a friend of mine, who is now upon the western cir- 
cuit, having promised to give me an account of the several 
modes and fashions that prevail in the different parts of 
the nation through which he passes, I shall defer the en- 
larging upon this last topic till I have received a letter from 
him, which I expect every post. — Addison. 



The Moralist in the Poultry-yard. 83 



Spectator No. 120. Wednesday, July 18, 1711 : — In this jmper and 
the next the Spectator takes occasion, from his observations of Sir 
Roger's poultry, to moralize on the signs of the divine wisdom and 
goodness revealed in the animal creation. 

Equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis 



lugenium 

VIRG. GEORG. i. 415. 

My friend Sir Roger is very often merry with me upon 
my passing so much of my time among his poultry. He 
has caught me twice or thrice looking after a bird's nest, 
and several times sitting an hour or two together near a 
hen and chickens. He tells me he believes I am personally 
acquainted with every fowl about his house; calls such a 
particular cock my favorite; and frequently complains 
that his ducks and geese have more of my company than 
himself. 

I must confess I am infinitely delighted with those 
speculations of nature which are to be made in a country 
life; and as my reading has very much lain among books 
of natural history, I cannot forbear recollecting upon this 
occasion the several remarks which I have met with in 
authors, and comparing them with what falls under my 
own observation ; the arguments for Providence drawn from 
the natural history of animals being in my opinion demon- 
strative. 

The make of every kind of animal is different from that 
of every other kind; and yet there is not the least turn in 
the muscles or twist in the fibres of any one, which does 
not render them more proper for that particular animaPs 
way of life than any other cast or texture of them would 
have been. 

The most violent appetites in all creatures are lust and 



84 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

hunger. The first is a perpetual call upon them to propa- 
gate their kind; the latter to preserve themselves. 

It is astonishing to consider the dilt'erent degrees of care 
that descend from the parent to the young, so far as is 
absolutely necessary for the leaving a posterity. Some 
creatures cast their eggs as chance directs them, and think 
of them no farther; as insects and several kinds of fish. 
Others, of a nicer frame, find out proper beds to deposit 
them in, and there leave them ; as the serpent, the croco- 
dile, and ostrich: others hatch their eggs and tend the 
birth, till it is able to shift for itself. 

AVhat can we call the principle which directs every 
different kind of bird to observe a particular plan in the 
structure of its nest, and directs all the same species to 
Avork after the same model? It cannot be imitation; for 
though you hatch a crow under a hen, and never let it see 
any of the works of its own kind, the nest it makes shall 
be the same, to the laying of a stick, with all the other 
nests of the same sx3ecies. It cannot be reason; for were 
animals endued Avith it to as great a degree as man, their 
buildings would be as different as ours, according to the dif- 
ferent conveniences that they would propose to themselves. 

Is it not remarkable, that the same temper of weather, 
which raises this genial warmth in animals, should cover 
the trees with leaves, and the fields with grass, for their 
security and concealment, and produce such infinite swarms 
of insects for the support and sustenance of their respective 
broods? 

Is it not wonderful that the love of the parent should be 
so violent while it lasts, and that it should last no longer 
than is necessary for the preservation of the young? 

The violence of this natural love is exemplified by a very 
barbarous experiment; which I shall quote at length, as I 



The Moralist in the Poultry-yard. 85 

find it in an excellent author, and hope my readers will 
pardon the mentioning such an instance of cruelty, because 
there is nothing can so effectually show the strength of that 
principle in animals of which I am here speaking. "A 
person who was well skilled in dissections opened a bitch, 
and as she lay in the most exquisite tortures, offered her 
one of her young puppies, which she immediately fell a 
licking; and for the time seemed insensible of her own 
pain. On the removal, she kept her eye fixed on it, and 
began a wailing sort of cry, which seemed rather to proceed 
from the loss of her young one, than the sense of her own 
torments." 

But notwithstanding this natural love in brutes is much 
more violent and intense than in rational creatures. Provi- 
dence has taken care that it should be no longer troublesome 
to the parent than it is useful to the young; for so soon as 
the wants of the latter cease, the mother withdraws her 
fondness, and leaves them to provide for themselves; and 
what is a very remarkable circumstance in this part of 
instinct, we find that the love of the parent may be length- 
ened out beyond its usual time, if the preservation of the 
species requires it : as we may see in birds that drive away 
their young as soon as they are able to get their livelihood, 
but continue to feed them if they are tied to the nest, or 
confined within a cage, or by any other means appear to be 
out of a condition of supplying their own necessities. 

This natural love is not observed in animals to ascend 
from the young to the parent, which is not at all necessary 
for the continuance of the species : nor indeed in reasonable 
creatures does it rise in any proportion, as it spreads itself 
downwards; for in all family affection, we find protection 
granted and favors bestowed, are greater motives to love 
and tenderness, than safety, benefits, or life received. 



86 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

One would, wonder to hear sceptical men disputing for 
the reason of animals, and telling us it is only our pride 
and prejudices that will not allow them the use of that 
faculty. 

Reason shows itself in all occurrences of life; whereas 
the brute makes no discovery of such a talent, but in what 
immediately regards his own preservation, or the continu- 
ance of his species. Animals in their generation are wiser 
than the sons of men; but their wisdom is confined to a 
few particulars, and lies in a very narrow compass. Take 
a brute out of his instinct, and you find him wholly dex3rived 
of understanding. To use an instance that comes often 
under observation : — 

With what caution does the hen provide herself a nest 
in places unfrequented, and free from noise and disturbance ! 
When she has laid her eggs in such a manner that she can 
cover them, what care does she take in turning them fre- 
quently, that all parts may partake of the vital warmth! 
When she leaves them, to provide for her necessary suste- 
nance, how punctually does she return before they have time 
to cool, and become incapable of producing an animal ! In 
the summer you see her giving herself greater freedoms, 
and quitting her care for above two hours together ; but in 
winter, when the rigor of the season would chill the prin- 
ciples of life and destroy the young one, she grows more 
assiduous in her attendance, and stays away but half the 
time. When the birth approaches, with how much nicety 
and attention does she help the chick to break its prison! 
Not to take notice of her covering it from the injuries of 
the weather, providing proper nourishment, and teaching 
it to help itself; nor to mention her forsaking the nest, if 
after the usual time of reckoning the young one does not 
make its appearance. A chemical operation could not be 



The Moralist in the Poultry-yard. 87 

followed with greater art or diligence, than is seen in the 
hatching of a chick; though there are many other birds 
that show an infinitely greater sagacity in all the fore- 
mentioned particulars. 

But at the same time the hen, that has all this seeming 
ingenuity (which is indeed absolutely necessary for the 
propagation of the species) considered in other respects, is 
without the least glimmerings of thought or common sense. 
She mistakes a piece of chalk for an Qgg^ and sits upon it 
in the same manner. She is insensible of any increase or 
diminution in the number of those she lays. She does not 
distinguish between her own and those of another species ; 
and when the birth appears of never so different a bird, 
will cherish it for her own. In all these circumstances, 
which do not carry an immediate regard to the subsistence 
of herself or her species, she is a very idiot. 

There i^ not, in my opinion, anything more mysterious 
in nature than this instinct in animals, which thus rises 
above reason, and falls infinitely short of it. It cannot be 
accounted for by any properties in matter, and at the same 
time works after so odd a manner, that one cannot think it 
the faculty of an intellectual being. For my own part, I 
look upon it as upon the principle of gravitation in bodies, 
which is not to be explained by any known qualities in- 
herent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws of 
mechanism ; but, according to the best notions of the great- 
est philosophers, is an immediate impression from the first 
Mover, and the divine energy acting in the creatures. 
— Addison. 



88 The Sir Koger de Coverley Papers. 

Spectator No. 121, Thursday, July 19, 1711. 

Jo vis omnia plena. 

viRG. ECL. iii. 60. 

As I was walking this morning in the great yard that 
belongs to my friend's country-house, I was wonderfully 
pleased to see the different workings of instinct in a hen 
followed by a brood of ducks. The young, upon the sight 
of a pond, immediately ran into it; while the step-mother, 
with all imaginable anxiety, hovered about the borders of 
it, to call them out of an element that appeared to her so 
dangerous and destructive. As the different principle which 
acted in these different animals cannot be termed reason, so 
when we call it instinct we mean something we have no 
knowledge of. To me, as I hinted in my last paper, it 
seems the immediate direction of Providence, and such an 
operation of the Supreme Being, as that which determines 
all the portions of matter to their proper centres. A modern 
philosopher, quoted by Monsieur Bayle in his learned dis- 
sertation on the Souls of Brutes, delivers the same opinion, 
though in a bolder form of words, where he says, Deus est 
anima hrutorum, " God himself is the soul of brutes." Who 
can tell what to call that seeming sagacity in animals, which 
directs them to such food as is proper for them, and makes 
them naturally avoid whatever is noxious or unwholesome? 
Tully has observed, that a lamb no sooner falls from its 
mother, but immediately and of its own accord it applies 
itself to the teat. Dampier, in his travels, tells us, that 
when the seamen are thrown uj^on any of the unknown 
coasts of America, they never venture upon the fruit of 
any tree, how tempting soever it may appear, unless they 
observe that it is marked with the pecking of birds; but 



The Moralist in the Poultry-yard. 89 

fall on without any fear or apprehension where the birds 
have been before them. 

But notwithstanding animals have nothing like the use 
of reason, we find in them all the lower parts of our nature, 
the passions and senses in their greatest strength and per- 
fection. And here it is worth our observation, that all 
beasts and birds of prey are wonderfully subject to anger, 
malice, revenge, and all the other violent passions that 
may animate them in search of their proper food ; as those 
that are incapable of defending themselves, or annoying 
others, or whose safety lies chiefly in their flight, are sus- 
picious, fearful, and apprehensive of everything they see 
or hear; whilst others, that are of assistance and use to 
man, have their natures softened with something mild and 
tractable, and by that means are qualified for a domestic 
life. In this case the passions generally correspond with 
the make of the body. We do not find the fury of the lion 
in so weak and defenceless an animal as a lamb ; nor the 
meekness of a lamb in a creature so armed for battle and 
assault as the lion. In the same manner we find that par- 
ticular animals have a more or less exquisite sharpness and 
sagacity in those particular senses which most turn to their 
advantage, and in which their safety and welfare is the 
most concerned. 

Nor must we here omit that great variety of arms with 
which nature has differently fortified the bodies of several 
kinds of animals, such as claws, hoofs, horns, teeth, and 
tusks, a tail, a sting, a trunk, or a proboscis. It is like- 
wise observed by naturalists, that it must be some hidden 
principle, distinct from what we call reason, which instructs 
animals in the use of these their arms, and teaches them to 
manage them to the best advantage 5 because they naturally 
defend themselves with that part in which their strength 



90 The Sir Roger de Coverley ,Papers, 

lies, before the weapon be formed in it : as is remarkable 
in lambs, which, though they are bred within doors, and 
never saw the actions of their own species, push at those 
who approach them with their foreheads, before the lirst 
budding of a horn appears. 

I shall add to these general observations an instance 
which Mr. Locke has given us of Providence even in the 
imperfections of a creature which seems the meanest and 
most despicable in the whole animal world. "We may," 
says he, " from the make of an oyster, or cockle, conclude, 
that it has not so many nor so quick senses as a man, or 
several other animals : nor, if it had, would it, in that state 
and incapacity of transferring itself from one place to 
another, be bettered by them. What good would sight and 
hearing do to a creature, that cannot move itself to or from 
the object wherein at a distance it perceives good or evil? 
And would not quickness of sensation be an inconvenience 
to an animal that must be still where chance has once placed 
it, and there receive the afflux of colder or warmer, clean 
or foul water, as it happens to come to it." 

I shall add to this instance out of Mr. Locke another out 
of the learned Dr. More, who cites it from Garden, in rela- 
tion to another animal which Providence has left defective, 
but at the same time has shown its wisdom in the forma- 
tion of tliat organ in which it seems chiefly to have failed. 
" What is more obvious and ordinary than a mole ; and yet 
what more palpable argument of Providence than she? The 
members of her body are so exactly fitted to her nature and 
manner of life : for her dwelling being under ground where 
nothing is to be seen, nature has so obscurely fitted her with 
eyes, that naturalists can hardly agree whether she have 
any sight at all, or no. But for amends, what she is capa- 
ble of for her defence and warning of danger, she has very 



The Moralist in the Poultry -yard. 91 

eminently conferred upon her ; for she is exceedingly quick 
of hearing. And then her short tail and short legs, but 
broad fore-feet armed with sharp claws ; we see by the event 
to Avhat purpose they are, she so swiftly working herself 
under ground, and making her way so fast in the earth as 
they that behold it cannot but admire it. Her legs there- 
fore are short, that she need dig no more than will serve 
the mere thickness of her body ; and her fore-feet are broad, 
that she may scoop away much earth at a time j and little 
or no tail she has, because she courses it not on the ground, 
like the rat or mouse, of whose kindred she is; but lives 
under the earth, and is fain to dig herself a dwelling there. 
And she making her way through so thick an element, which 
will not yield easily, as the air or the water, it had been 
dangerous to have drawn so long a train behind her; for 
her enemy might fall upon her rear, and fetch her out, be- 
fore she had completed or got full possession of her works." 

I cannot forbear mentioning Mr. Boyle's remark upon 
this last creature, who I remember somewhere in his works 
observes, that though the mole be not totally blind (as it is 
commonly thought), she has not sight to distinguish par- 
ticular objects. Her eye is said to have but one humor in 
it, which is supposed to give her the idea of light, but of 
nothing else, and is so formed that this idea is probably 
painful to the animal. Whenever she comes up into broad 
day she might be in danger of being taken, unless she were 
thus affected by a light striking upon her eye, and immedi- 
ately warning her to bury herself in her proper element. 
More sight would be useless to her, as none at all might be 
fatal. 

I have only instanced such animals as seem the most 
imperfect works of nature ; and if Providence shows itself 
even in the blemishes of these creatures, how much more 



92 The Sir Roger de Coverlet/ Papers. 

does it discover itself in the several endowments which it 
has variously bestowed upon such creatures as are more or 
less finished and completed in their several faculties, accord- 
ing to the condition of life in which they are posted! 

I could wish our Eoyal Society would compile a body of 
natural history, the best that could be gathered together 
from books and observations. If the several writers among 
them took each his particular species, and gave us a distinct 
account of its original, birth, and education; its policies, 
hostilities, and alliances, with the frame and texture of its 
inward and outward parts, and particularly those that dis- 
tinguish it from all other animals, with their peculiar apti- 
tudes for the state of being in which Providence has placed 
them, it would be one of the best services their studies 
could do mankind, and not a little redound to the glory of 
the all-wise Contriver. 

It is true, such a natural history, after all the disquisi- 
tions of the learned, would be infinitely short and defective. 
Seas and deserts hide millions of animals from our obser^ 
vation. Innumerable artifices and stratagems are acted in 
the "howling wilderness" and in the "great deep," that 
can never come to our knowledge. Besides that there are 
infinitely more species of creatures which are not to be 
seen without, nor indeed with the help of the finest glasses, 
than of such as are bulky enough for the naked eye to take 
hold of. However, from the consideration of such animals 
as lie within the compass of our knowledge, we might easily 
form a conclusion of the rest, that the same variety of wis- 
dom and goodness runs through the whole creation, and 
puts every creature in a condition to provide for its safety 
and subsistence in its proper station. 

Tully has given us an admirable sketch of natural his- 
tory, in his second book concerning the nature of the gods; 



Sir Rogey^ at the Assizes. 93 

and that in a style so raised by metaphors and descriptions, 
that it lifts the subject above raillery and ridicule, which 
frequently fall on such nice observations when they pass 
through the hands of an ordinary writer. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 122. Friday, July 20, Vlll-. — Sir Roger at the 

assizes. 

Comes jucundus in via pro veliiculo est. 

PUB. SYR. FRAG. 

A man's first care should be to avoid the reproaches of 
his own heart; his next, to escape the censures of the 
world. If the last interferes with the former, it ought to 
be entirely neglected; but otherwise there cannot be a 
greater satisfaction to an honest mind, than to see those 
approbations which it gives itself, seconded by the applauses 
of the public. A man is more sure of his conduct, when 
the verdict which he passes upon his own behavior is thus 
warranted and confirmed by the opinion of all that know him. 

My worthy friend Sir Eoger is one of those who is not 
only at peace within himself, but beloved and esteemed by 
all about him. He receives a suitable tribute for his uni- 
versal benevolence to mankind, in the returns of affection 
and good will which are paid him by every one that lives 
within his neighborhood. I lately met with two or three 
odd instances of that general respect which is shown to the 
good old knight. He would needs carry Will Wimble and 
myself with him to the county assizes. As we were upon the 
road. Will Wimble joined a couple of plain men who rid before 
us, and conversed with them for some time ; during which 
my friend Sir Roger acquainted me with their characters. 

"The first of them," says he, "that has a spaniel by his 



94 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pai^ 



ers. 



side, is a yeoman of about an hundred pounds a year, an 
honest man. He is just within the Game Act, and quali- 
fied to kill an hare or a pheasant. He knocks down his 
dinner with his gun twice or thrice a Aveek ; and by that 
means lives mi>ch cheaper than those who have not so good 
an estate as himself. He would be a good neighbor if he 
did not destroy so many partridges. In short, he is a very 
sensible man; shoots flying; and has been several times 
foreman of the petty jury. 

"The other that rides along with him is Tom Touchy, a 
fellow famous for * taking the law ' of everybody. There is 
not one in the town where he lives that he has not sued at 
a quarter sessions. The rogue had once the impudence to 
go to law witli the Widow. His head is full of costs, 
damages, and ejectments. He plagued a couple of honest 
gentlemen so long for a trespass in breaking one of his 
hedges, till he was forced to sell the ground it inclosed to 
defray the charges of the prosecution : his father left him 
four-score pounds a year; but he has cast and been cast so 
often, that he is not now worth thirty. I suppose he is 
going upon the old business of the willow-tree." 

As Sir Eoger was giving me this account of Tom Touchy, 
Will Wimble and his two companions stopped short till we 
came up to them. After having paid their respects to Sir 
Roger, Will told him that Mr. Touchy and he must appeal 
to him upon a dispute that arose between them. Will it 
seems had been giving his fellow-traveller an account of 
his angling one day in such a hole; when Tom Touchy, 
instead of hearing out his story, told him that Mr. Such-a- 
one, if he pleased, might " take the law of him " for fishing 
in that part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them 
both, upon a round trot ; and after having paused some time 
told them, with the air of a man who would not give his 



^■^ 

* 




Sir Roger}- at the Assizes. 95 



jim^n^nt rashly^that "mji^li might be said on both sides." 
They w^re neithOT^sfTnem dissatisfied with the knight's 
deteriu^wfetion, bech^se neither of them fonnd himself in 
the ^ong by it. ^on which we made the best of our 
way to the assizes. 

The Court was sat berore Sir Roger came; but notwith- 
standing all the justices \ad taken their places upon the 
bench, they made room for the old knight at the head of 
them; who for his reputation in the country took occasion 
to whisper in the judge's ear, that he was glad his lordship 
had met with so much good weather in his circuit. I was 
listening to the proceeding of the Court with much atten- 
tion, and infinitely pleased with that great appearance of 
solemnity which so properly accompanies such a public 
administration of our laws; when, after an hour's sitting, 
I observed, to my great surprise, in the midst of a trial, that 
my friend Sir Eoger was getting up to speak. I was in 
some pain for him, until I found he had acquitted himself 
of two or three sentences, with a look of much business and 
great intrepidity. 

Upon his first rising the Court was hushed, and a general 
whisper ran among the country people, that Sir Eoger "was 
up." The speech he made was so little to the purpose, that 
I shall not trouble my readers with an account of it; and I 
believe was not so much designed by the knight himself to 
inform the Court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and 
keep up his credit in the country. 

I was highly delighted, when the Court rose, to see the 
gentlemen of the country gathering about my old friend, 
and striving who should compliment him most ; at the same 
time that the ordinary people gazed upon him at a distance, 
not a little admiring his courage, that was not afraid to 
speak to the judge. 



96 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

In our return home we met with a very odd accident; 
which I cannot forbear rehiting, because it shows how 
desirous all who know Sir Roger are of giving him marks 
of their esteem. When we were arrived upon the verge of 
his estate, we stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and 
our horses. The man of the house had it seems been for- 
merly a servant in the knight's family; and to do honor 
to his old master, had some time since, unknown to Sir 
Eoger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that 
the knight's head had hung out upon the road about a week 
before he himself knew anything of the matter. As soon 
as Sir E-oger was acquainted with it, finding that his ser- 
vant's indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection and 
good will, he only told him that he had made him too high 
a compliment; and when the fellow seemed to think that 
could hardly be, added with a more decisive look, that it 
was too great an honor for any man under a duke; but 
told him at the same time, that it might be altered with a 
very few touches, and that he himself would be at the 
charge of it. Accordingly they got a painter, by the 
knight's directions, to add a pair of whiskers to the face, 
and by a little aggravation of the features to change it into 
the Saracen's Head. I should not have known this story, 
had not the innkeeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, told 
him in my hearing, that his Honor's head Avas brought 
back last night with the alterations that he had ordered to 
be made in it. Upon this my friend, with his usual cheer- 
fulness, related the particulars above-mentioned, and ordered 
the head to be brought into the room. I could not forbear 
discovering greater expressions of mirth than ordinary upon 
the appearance of this monstrous face, under Avhich, not- 
withstanding it was made to frown and stare in a most 
extraordinary manner, I could still discover a distant re- 



Flo7'io and Leonilla. 97 

semblance of my old friend. Sir Eoger, upon seeing me 
laugh, desired me to tell him truly if I thought it possible 
for people to know him in that disguise. I at first ke]ot 
my usual silence; but upon the knight's conjuring me to 
tell him whether it was not still more like himself than a 
Saracen, I composed my countenance in the best manner I 
could, and replied, that " Much might be said on both sides." 
These several adventures, with the knight's behavior in 
them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any 
of my travels. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 123. Saturday, July 21, 1711: — The Spectator, at 
Sir Roger's, is reminded of lohat seems rather like a novel than a 

true story. 

Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam, 
Rectique cultiis pectora roborant : 
Utcunque defecere mores, 
Dedecorant bene nata culp?e. 

HOR. OD. IV. iv. 33. 

As I was yesterday taking the air with my friend Sir 
Roger, we were met by a fresh-colored ruddy young man 
who rid by us full speed, with a couple of servants behind 
him. Upon my inquiry who he was, Sir Eoger told me 
that he was a young gentleman of a considerable estate, 
who had been educated by a tender mother that lived not 
many miles from the place where we were. She is a very 
good lady, says my friend, but took so much care of her 
son's health, that she has made him good for nothing. She 
quickly found that reading was bad for his eyes, and that 
writing made his head ache. He was let loose among the 
woods as soon as he was able to ride on horseback, or to 
carry a gun upon his shoulder. To be brief, I found by my 
friend's account of him, that he had got a great stock of 



98 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

health, but nothing else; and that if it were a man's busi- 
ness only to live, there would not be a more accomplished 
young fellow in the whole country. 

The truth of it is, since my residing in these parts I have 
seen and heard innumerable instances of young heirs and 
elder brothers who, either from their own reflecting upon 
the estates they are born to, and therefore thinking all other 
accomplishments unnecessary, or from hearing these notions 
frequently inculcated to them by the flattery of their ser- 
vants and domestics, or from the same foolish thought pre- 
vailing in those who have the care of their education, are 
of no manner of use but to keep up their families, and 
transmit their lands and houses in a line to posterity. 

This makes me often think on a story I have heard of 
two friends, which I shall give my reader at large, under 
feigned names. The moral of it may, I hope, be useful, 
though there are some circumstances which make it rather 
appear like a novel than a true story. 

Eudoxus and Leontine began the world with small estates. 
They were both of them men of good sense and great virtue. 
They prosecuted their studies together in their earlier years, 
and entered into such a friendship as lasted to the end of 
their lives. Eudoxus, at his first setting out in the world, 
threw himself into a court, where by his natural endow- 
ments and his acquired abilities he made his way from one 
l)ost to another, until at length he had raised a very con- 
siderable fortune. Leontine, on the contrary, sought all 
opportunities of improving his mind by study, conversation, 
and travel. He was not only acquainted with all the sci- 
ences, but with the most eminent professors of them 
throughout Europe. He knew perfectly well the interests 
of its princes, with the customs and fashions of their courts, 
and could scarce meet with the name of an extraordinary 



Florio and Leonilla. 99 

person in the " Gazette " whom he had not either talked to 
or seen. In short, he had so well mixed and digested his 
knowledge of men and books, that he made one of the most 
accomplished persons of his age. During the whole course 
of his studies and travels he kept up a punctual correspond- 
ence with Eudoxus, who often made himself acceptable to 
the principal men about court by the intelligence which he 
received from Leontine. When they were both turned of 
forty (an age in which, according to Mr. Cowley, " there is 
no dallying with life "), they determined, pursuant to the 
resolution they had taken in the beginning of their lives, 
to retire, and pass the remainder of their days in the 
country. In order to this, they both of them married much 
about the same time. Leontine, with his own and his 
wife's fortune, bought a farm of three hundred a year 
which lay within the neighborhood of his friend Eudoxus, 
who had purchased an estate of as many thousands. They 
were both of them fathers about the same time, Eudoxus 
having a son born to him, and Leontine a daughter; but to 
the unspeakable grief of the latter, his young wife (in whom 
all his happiness was wrapt up) died in a few days after 
the birth of her daughter. His affliction would have been 
insupportable, had he not been comforted by the daily visits 
and conversations of his friend. As they were one day 
talking together with their usual intimacy, Leontine, con- 
sidering how incapable he was of giving his daughter a 
proper education in his own house, and Eudoxus reflecting 
on the ordinary behavior of a son who knows himself to 
be the heir of a great estate, they both agreed upon an 
exchange of children, namely, that the boy should be bred 
up with Leontine as his son, and that the girl should live 
with Eudoxus as his daughter, until they were each of them 
arrived at years of discretion. The wife of Eudoxus, know- 



100 The Si?' Rogey- de Coverley Papers. 

ing that her son couhl not be so advantageonsly brought up 
as under the care of Leontine, and considering at the same 
time that he would be perpetually under her own eye, was 
by degrees prevailed upon to fall in with the project. She 
therefore took Leonilla, for that was the name of the girl, 
and educated her as her own daughter. The two friends 
on each side had wrought themselves to such an habitual 
tenderness for the children who were under their direction, 
that each of them had the real passion of a father, where 
the title was but imaginary. Elorio, the name of the young 
heir that lived with Leontine, though he had all the duty 
and affection imaginable for his supposed parent, was 
taught to rejoice at the sight of Eudoxus, who visited his 
friend very frequently, and was dictated by his natural 
affection, as well as by the rules of prudence, to make him- 
self esteemed and beloved by Florio. The boy was now old 
enough to know his supposed father's circumstances, and 
that therefore he was to make his way in the world by his 
own industry. This consideration grew stronger in him 
every day, and produced so good an effect, that he applied 
himself with more than ordinary attention to the pursuit 
of everything which Leontine recommended to him. His 
natural abilities, which were very good, assisted by the 
directions of so excellent a counsellor, enabled him to make 
a quicker progress than ordinary through all the parts of 
his education. Before he was twenty years of age, having 
finished his studies and exercises with great applause, he 
was removed from the university to the inns of court, where 
there are very few that make themselves considerable pro- 
ficients in the studies of the place, who know they shall 
arrive at great estates without them. This was not Florio's 
case ; he found that three hundred a year was but a poor 
estate for Leontine and himself to live upon, so that he 



Florio and Leonilla. 101 

studied without intermission till he gained a very good 
insight into the constitution and laws of his country. 

I should have told my reader, that whilst Florio lived at 
the house of his foster-father, he was always an acceptable 
guest in the family of Eudoxus, where he became acquainted 
with Leonilla from her infancy. His acquaintance with 
her by degrees grew into love, which in a mind trained up 
in all the sentiments of honor and virtue became a very 
uneasy passion. He despaired of gaining an heiress of so 
great a fortune, and would rather have died than attempted 
it by any indirect method. Leonilla, who was a woman of 
the greatest beauty joined with the greatest modesty, enter- 
tained at the same time a secret passion for Florio, but con- 
ducted herself with so much prudence that she never gave 
him the least intimation of it. Florio was now engaged in 
all those arts and improvements that are proper to raise a 
man's private fortune, and give him a figure in his country, 
but secretly tormented with that passion which burns with 
the greatest fury in a virtuous and noble heart, when he 
received a sudden summons from Leontine to repair to him 
in the country the next day : for it seems Eudoxus was so 
filled with the report of his son's reputation, that he could 
no longer withhold making himself known to him. The 
morning after his arrival at the house of his supposed 
father, Leontine told him that Eudoxus had something of 
great importance to communicate to him; upon which the 
good man embraced him, and wept. Florio was no sooner 
arrived at the great house that stood in his neighborhood, 
but Eudoxus took him by the hand, after the first salutes 
were over, and conducted him into his closet. He there 
opened to him the whole secret of his parentage and educa- 
tion, concluding after this manner : — "I have no other way 
left of acknowledging my gratitude to Leontine, than by 



102 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

marrying you to his daughter. He shall not lose the 
pleasure of being your father by the discovery I have made 
to you. Leonilla too shall be still my daughter; her filial 
X^iety, though misplaced, has been so exemplary, that it 
deserves the greatest reward I can confer upon it. You 
shall have the pleasure of seeing a great estate fall to you, 
which you would have lost the relish of had you known 
yourself born to it. Continue only to deserve it in the 
same manner you did before you were possessed of it. I 
have left your mother in the next room. Her heart yearns 
towards you. She is making the same discoveries to Leo- 
nilla which I have made to yourself." Florio was so over- 
whelmed with this profusion of happiness, that he was not 
able to make a reply, but threw himself down at his father's 
feet, and amidst a flood of tears kissed and embraced his 
knees, asking his blessing, and expressing in dumb show 
those sentiments of love, duty, and gratitude, that were too 
big for utterance. To conclude, the happy pair were mar- 
ried, and half Eudoxus's estate settled upon them. Leon- 
tine and Eudoxus passed the remainder of their lives 
together; and received in the dutiful and affectionate be- 
havior of Florio and Leonilla the just recompense, as well 
as the natural effects, of that care which they had bestowed 
upon them in their education. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 125. Tuesday, Juli/ 24, 1711 : — Sir Roger fells a story 
of his boyhood, ichick leads the Spectator to discuss the evils of party- 
spirit. 

Ne, pueri, ne tanta animis assuescite bella : 
Neu patrife validas iu viscera vertite vires. 

viRG. JES. vi. 832. 

My worthy friend Sir Roger, when we are talking of the 
malice of parties, very frequently tells us an accident that 



y 



Party-spirit. 103 

happened to him when he was a school-boyj which was at 
the time when the feuds ran high between the Eoundheads 
and Cavaliers. This worthy knight, being then but a strip- 
ling, had occasion to inquire which was the way to St. 
Anne's Lane; upon which the person whom he spoke to, 
instead of answering his question, called him a young popish 
cur, and asked him who had made Anne a saint. The boy, 
being in some confusion, inquired of the next he met, which 
was the way to Anne's Lane, but was called a prickeared 
cur for his pains, and, instead of being shown the way, was 
told that she had been a saint before he was born, and would 
be one after he was hanged. " Upon this," says Sir Roger, 
"I did not think lit to repeat the former question, but, 
going into every lane of the neighborhood, asked what 
they called the name of that lane." By which ingenious 
artifice he found out the place he inquired after without 
giving offence to any party. Sir Eoger generally closes 
this narrative with reflections on the mischief that parties 
do in the country; how they spoil good neighborhood, and 
make honest gentlemen hate one another; besides that they 
manifestly tend to the prejudice of the land-tax, and the 
destruction of the game. 

There cannot be a greater judgment befal a country than 
such a dreadful spirit of division as rends a government 
into two distinct people, and makes them greater strangers 
and more averse to one another, than if they were actually 
two different nations. The effects of such a division are 
pernicious to the last degree, not only with regard to those 
advantages which they give the common enemy, but to those 
private evils Avhich they produce in the heart of almost 
every particular person. This influence is very fatal both 
to men's morals and their understandings; it sinks the 
virtue of a nation, and not only so, but destroys even 
common sense. 



104 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

A furious party-spirit, when it rages in its full violence, 
exerts itself in civil war and bloodshed; and when it is 
under its greatest restraints, naturally breaks out in false- 
hood, detraction, calumny, and a partial administration of 
justice. In a word, it fills a nation with spleen and rancor, 
and extinguishes all the seeds of good nature, compassion, 
and humanity. 

Plutarch says very finely, " That a man should not allow 
himself to hate even his enemies, because," says he, "if 
you indulge this passion on some occasions, it will rise of 
itself in others; if you hate your enemies, you will contract 
such a vicious habit of mind, as by degrees will break out 
upon those Avho are your friends, or those who are indiffer- 
ent to you." I might here observe how admirably this 
precept of morality (which derives the malignity of hatred 
from the passion itself, and not from its object) answers to 
that great rule which was dictated to the world about an 
hundred years before this philosopher wrote; but, instead 
of that, I shall only take notice, with a real grief of heart, 
that the minds of many good men among us ajjpear soured 
with party-principles, and alienated from one another in 
such a manner, as seems to me altogether inconsistent with 
the dictates either of reason or religion. Zeal for a public 
cause is apt to breed passions in the hearts of virtuous per- 
sons, to which the regard of their own private interests 
would never have betrayed them. 

If this party-spirit has so ill an effect on our morals, it 
has likewise a very great one upon our judgments. We 
often hear a poor insipid paper or pamphlet cried up, and 
sometimes a noble piece depreciated, by those who are of a 
different principle from the author. One who is actuated 
by this spirit is almost under an incapacity of discerning 
either real blemishes or beauties. A man of merit in a 



Party-spirit. 105 

different principle, is like an object seen in two different 
mediums, that appears crooked or broken, however straight 
and entire it may be in itself. For this reason there is 
scarce a person of any figure in England, who does not go 
by two contrary characters, as opposite to one another as 
light and darkness. Knowledge and learning suffer in a 
particular manner from this strange prejudice, which at 
present prevails amongst all ranks and degrees in the 
British nation. As men formerly became eminent in 
learned societies by their parts and acquisitions, they now 
distinguish themselves by the warmth and violence with 
which they espouse their respective parties. Books are 
valued upon the like considerations. An abusive scurri- 
lous style passes for satire, and a dull scheme of party 
notions is called fine writing. 

There is one piece of sophistry practised by both sides, 
and that is the taking any scandalous story that has ever 
been whispered or invented of a private man, for a known 
undoubted truth, and raising suitable speculations upon it. 
Calumnies that have been never proved, or have been often 
refuted, are the ordinary postulatums of these infamous 
scribblers, upon which they proceed as upon first principles 
granted by all men, though in their hearts they know they 
are false, or at best very doubtful. When they have laid 
these foundations of scurrility, it is no wonder that their 
superstructure is every way answerable to them. If this 
shameless practice of the present age endures much longer, 
praise and reproach will cease to be motives of action in 
good men. 

There are certain periods of time in all governments when 
this inhuman spirit prevails. Italy was long torn in pieces 
by the Guelfes and Gibellines, and France by those who 
were for and against the league : but it is very unhappy for 



lOo"^ . The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, 

a man to be born in such a stormy and tempestuous season. 
It is the restless ambition of artful men that thus breaks 
a people into factions, and draws several well-meaning per- 
sons to their interest by a specious concern for their country. 
How many honest minds are filled with uncharitable and 
barbarous notions out of their zeal for the public good! 
What cruelties and outrages would they not commit against 
men of an adverse party, whom they would honor and 
esteem, if, instead of considering them as they are repre- 
sented, they knew them as they are ! Thus are persons of 
the greatest probity seduced into shameful errors and preju- 
dices, and made bad men even by that noblest of principles, 
the "love of their country." I cannot here forbear men- 
tioning the famous Spanish proverb, " If there were neither 
fools nor knaves in the world, all people would be of one 
mind." 

For my own part, I could heartily wish that all honest 
men would enter into an association, for the support of one 
another against the endeavors of those whom they ought 
to look upon as their common enemies, whatsoever side 
they may belong to. Were there such an honest body of 
neutral forces, we should never see the worst of men in 
great figures of life because they are useful to a party ; nor 
the best unregarded, because they are above practising those 
methods which would be grateful to their faction. We 
should then single every criminal out of the herd, and hunt 
him down, however formidable and overgrown he might 
appear : on the contrary, we should shelter distressed inno- 
cence, and defend virtue, however beset with contempt or 
ridicule, envy or defamation. In short, we should not any 
longer regard our fellow subjects as whigs or tories, but 
should make the man of merit our friend, and the villain 
our enemy. — Addison. 



Party-spirit, 107 




/ 

Spectator Nor I2§. Wednesday, July 25, Vlll -. — Strictures on 

party-spirit continued. 

, Tros Rutulusve fuat, nullo discrimine habebo. 

VIRG. iEN. X. 108. 

In my yesterday's paper I proposed, that the honest men 
of all parties should enter into a kind of association for the 
defence of one another, and the confusion of their common 
enemies. As it is designed this neutral body should act 
with a regard to nothing but truth and equity, and divest 
themselves of the little heats and prepossessions that cleave 
to parties of all kinds, I have prepared for them the follow- 
ing form of an association, which may express their inten- 
tions in the most plain and simple manner. 

" We whose names are hereunto subscribed do solemnly 
declare, that we do in our consciences believe two and two 
make four ; and that we shall adjudge any man whatsoever 
to be our enemy who endeavors to persuade us to the con- 
trary. We are likewise ready to maintain with the hazard 
of all that is near and dear to us, that six is less than seven 
in all times and in all places ; and that ten will not be more 
three years hence than it is at present. We do also firmly 
declare, that it is our resolution as long as we live to call 
black black, and white white. And we shall upon all occa- 
sions oppose such persons that upon any day of the year 
shall call black white, or white black, with the utmost peril 
of our lives and fortunes." 

Were there such a combination of honest men, who with- 
out any regard to places, would endeavor to extirpate all 
such furious zealots as would sacrifice one-half of their 
country to the passion and interest of the other; as also 
such infamous hypocrites, that are for promoting their own 



108 The Sir Roger de Coverley Paj^ers, 

advantage, under color of the public good; witli all the 
profligate immoral retainers to each side, that have nothing 
to recommend them but an implicit submission to their 
leaders; we should soon see that furious x^arty-spirit extin- 
guished, which may in time expose us to the derision and 
contempt of all the nations about us. 

A member of this society that would thus carefully 
employ himself in making room for merit, by throwing 
down the worthless and depraved part of mankind from 
those conspicuous stations of life to which they have been 
sometimes advanced, and all this without any regard to 
his private interest, would be no small benefactor to his 
country. 

_j; remember to have read in Diodorus Siculus an account 
6f a very active little animal, which I think he calls the 
ichneumon, that makes it the whole business of his life to 
break the eggs of the crocodile, which he is always in search 
after. This instinct is the more remarkable, because the 
ichneumon never feeds upon the eggs he has broken, nor 
any other way finds his account in them. Were it not for 
the incessant labors of this industrious animal, Egypt, 
says the historian, would be overrun with crocodiles; for 
the Egyptians are so far from destroying those pernicious 
creatures, that "they worship) them as gods. 

If we look into the behavior of ordinary partizans, we 
shall find them far from resembling this disinterested 
animal; and rather acting after the example of the wild 
Tartars, who are ambitious of destroying a man of the most 
extraordinary parts and accomplishments, as thinking that 
upon his decease the same talents, whatever post they quali- 
fied him for, enter of course into his destroyer. 

As in the whole train of my speculations I have endeav- 
ored as much as I am able to extinguish that pernicious 



Party-sjy irit. 109 

spirit of passion and prejudice, which rages with the same 
violence in all parties, I am still the more desirous of doing 
some good in this particular, because I observe that the 
spirit of party rages more in the country than in the town. 
It here contracts a kind of brutality and rustic fierceness, 
to which men of a politer conversation are wholly strangers. 
It extends itself even to the return of the bow and the hat; 
and at the same time that the heads of parties preserve 
towards one another an outward show of good breeding, 
and keep up a perpetual intercourse of civilities, their tools 
that are dispersed in these outlying parts will not so much 
as mingle together at a cock-match. This humor fills the 
country with several periodical meetings of Whig jockies 
and Tory fox-hunters; not to mention the innumerable 
curses, frowns, and whispers it produces at a quarter- 
sessions. 

I do not know whether I have observed in any of my 
former papers, that my friends Sir Eoger de Coverley and 
Sir Andrew Freeport are of different principles, the first 
of them inclined to the landed and the other to the monied 
interest. This humor is so moderate in each of them, 
that^ it pfoceeds no farther than to an agreeable raillery, 
which very often diverts the rest of the club. I find how- 
ever that the knight is a much stronger Tory in the country 
than in town, which, as he has told me in my ear, is abso- 
lutely necessary for the keeping up his interest. In all 
our journey from London to his house, we did not so much 
as bait at a Whig inn ; or if by chance the coachman stopped 
at a wrong place, one of Sir Koger's servants would ride 
up to his master full speed, and whisper to him that the 
master of the house was against such an one in the last 
election. This often betrayed us into hard beds and bad 
cheer; for we were not so inquisitive about the inn as the 



110 The Sir Hoger de Coverley Papers. 

innkeeper; and provided our landlord's principles were 
sound, did not take any notice of the staleness of his pro- 
visions. This I found still the more inconvenient, because 
the better the host was, the worse generally were his accom- 
modations; the fellow knowing very well that those who 
were his friends would take up with coarse diet and an hard 
lodging. For these reasons, all the while I was upon the 
road I dreaded entering into a house of any one that Sir 
Eoger had applauded for an honest man. 

Since my stay at Sir Roger's in the country, I daily find 
more instances of this narrow party-humor. Being upon 
a bowling-green at a neighboring market-town the other 
day (for that is the place where the gentlemen of one side 
meet once a Aveek), I observed a stranger among them of a 
better presence and genteeler behavior than ordinary; but 
was much surprised, that, notwithstanding he was a very 
fair better nobody would take him up. But upon inquiry 
I found, that he was one who had given a disagreeable vote 
in a former parliament, for which reason there was not a 
man upon that bowling-green who would have so much 
correspondence with him as to win his money of him. 

Among other instances of this nature, I must not omit 
one Avhich concerns myself. Will Wimble was the other 
day relating several strange stories that he had picked up, 
nobody knows where, of a certain great man ; and upon my 
staring at him, as one that v/as surprised to hear such 
things in the country, which had never been so much as 
whispered in the town. Will stopped short in the thread of 
his discourse, and after dinner, asked ni}^ friend Sir Eoger 
in his ear if he was sure that I was not a fanatic. 

It gives me a serious concern to see such a spirit of dis- 
sension in the country; not only as it destroys virtue and 
common sense, and renders us in a manner barbarians 



Sir Roger and the Gypsies. Ill 

towards one another, but as it perpetuates our animosities, 
widens our breaches, and transmits our present passions 
and prejudices to our posterity. For my own part, I am 
sometimes afraid that I discover the seeds of a civil war in 
these our divisions; and therefore cannot but bewail, as in 
their first principles, the miseries and calamities of our 
children. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 130. Monday, July 30, 1711: — Sir Roger and the 

gypsies. 



Semperque recentes 



Convectare juvat praedas, et vivere rapto. 

viRG. ^N. vii. 748. 

As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my friend 
Sir Roger, we saw at a little distance from us a troop of 
gypsies. Upon the first discovery of them, my friend was 
in some doubt whether he should not exert the justice of 
the peace upon such a band of lawless vagrants; but not 
having his clerk with him, who is a necessary counsellor 
on these occasions, and fearing that his poultry might fare 
the worse for it, he let the thought drop; but at the same 
time he gave me a particular account of the mischiefs they 
do in the country, in stealing people's goods and spoiling 
their servants. " If a stray piece of linen hangs upon an 
hedge," says Sir Roger, "they are sure to have it; if a 
hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but he be- 
comes their prey : our geese cannot live in peace for them ; 
if a man prosecutes them with severity, his hen-roost is 
sure to i^ay for it. They generally straggle into these parts 
about this time of the year ; and set the heads of our servant- 
maids so agog for husbands, that we do not expect to have 
any business done as it should be whilst they are in the 



112 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

country. I have an honest dairy-maid who crosses their 
hands with a piece of silver every summer, and never fails 
being promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish 
for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool enough 
to be seduced by them; and though he is sure to lose a 
knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his fortune is told him, 
generally shuts himself up in the pantry with ah old gypsy 
for above half an hour once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts 
are the things they live upon, which they bestow very plen- 
tifully upon all those that apply themselves to them. You 
see now and then some handsome young jades among them: 
the sluts have very often white teeth and black eyes." 

Sir Koger, observing that I listened with great attention 
to his account of a people who were so entirely new to me, 
told me, that, if I would, they should tell us our fortunes. 
As I was very well pleased with the knight's proposal, we 
rode up and communicated our hands to them. A Cassandra 
of the crew, after having examined my lines very diligently, 
told me, that I loved a pretty maid in a corner, that I was 
a good woman's man, with some other particulars which I 
do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Roger alighted 
from his horse, and exposing his palm to two or three that 
stood by him, they crumpled it into all shapes, and dili- 
gently scanned every wrinkle that could be made in it; when 
one of them who was older and more sun-burnt than the 
rest, told him, that he had a widow in his line of life. 
Upon which the knight cried, "Go, go, you are an idle 
baggage;" and at the same time smiled upon me. The 
gypsy, finding he was not displeased in his heart, told him, 
after a farther inquiry into his hand, that his true-love was 
constant, and that she should dream of him to-night. My 
old friend cried Pish, and bid her go on. The gypsy told 
him that he w:as a bachelor, but would not be so long; and 



The Spectator decides to return to London. 115 



Spectator No. 131. Tuesday, July 31, 1711:— TAe Speciator sees 
reasons ivhy he had better return to town. 

Ipsse rursum concedite sylvae. 

VIRG. ECL. X. 63. 

It is usual for a man who loves country sports to preserve 
the game on his own grounds, and divert himself upon those 
that belong to his neighbor. My friend Sir Roger gener- 
ally goes two or three miles from his house, and gets into 
the frontiers of his estate, before he beats about in search 
of a hare or partridge, on purpose to spare his own fields, 
where he is always sure of finding diversion, when the 
worst comes to the worst. By this means the breed about 
his house has time to increase and multiply, besides that 
the sport is the more agreeable where the game is the harder 
to come at, and where it does not lie so thick as to produce 
any perplexity or confusion in the pursuit. For these rea- 
sons the country gentleman, like the fox, seldom preys near 
his own home. 

In the same manuer I have made a month's excursion out 
of the town, which is the great field of game for sportsmen 
of my species, to try my fortune in the country, where I 
have started several subjects, and hunted them down, with 
some pleasure to myself, and I hope to otliers. I am here 
forced to use a great deal of diligence before I can spring 
anything to my mind, whereas in town, whilst I am follow- 
ing one character, it is ten to one but I am crossed in my 
way by another, and put up such a variety of odd creatures 
in both sexes, that they foil the. scent of one another, and 
puzzle the chase. My greatest difficulty in the country is 
to find sport, and in town to choose it. In the mean time, 
as I have given a whole month's rest to the cities of London 



116 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

and Westminster, I promise myself abundance of new game 
upon my return thither. 

It is indeed high time for me to leave the country, since 
I find the whole neighborhood begin to grow very inquisi- 
tive after my name and character; my love of solitude, 
taciturnity, and particular way of life having raised a great 
curiosity in all these parts. 

The notions which have been framed of me are various ; 
some look upon me as very proud, some as very modest, 
and some as very melancholy. Will Wimble, as my friend 
the butler tells me, observing me very much alone, and 
extremely silent when I am in company, is afraid I have 
killed a man. The country people seem to suspect me for 
a conjurer; and some of them, hearing of the visit which I 
made to Moll White, will needs have it that Sir Eoger has 
brought down a cunning man with him, to cure the old 
woman, and free the country from her charms. So that 
the character which I go under in part of the neighborhood, 
is what they here call a White Witch. 

A justice of peace, who lives about five miles off, and is 
not of Sir Eoger's party, has it seems said twice or thrice 
at his table, that he wishes Sir Roger does not harbor a 
Jesuit in his house, and that he thinks the gentlemen of 
the country would do very well to make me give some 
account of myself. 

On the other side, some of Sir Eoger 's friends are afraid 
the old knight is imposed upon by a designing fellow; and 
as they have heard that he converses very promiscuously 
when he is in town, do not know but he has brought down 
with him some discarded whig, that is sullen, and says 
nothing because he is out of place. 

Such is the variety of opinions which are here entertained 
of me, so that I pass among some for a disaffected person, 



The Spectator decides to return to London. 117 

and among others for a poj^ish priest; among some for a 
wizard, and among others for a murderer ; and all this for 
no other reason that I can imagine, but because I do not 
hoot, and halloo, and make a noise. It is true, my friend 
Sir Roger tells them "That it is my way," and that I am 
only a philosopher; but this will not satisfy them. They 
think there is more in me than he discovers, and that I do 
not hold my tongue for nothing. 

For these and other reasons I shall set out for London 
to-morrow, having found by experience that the country is 
not a place for a person of my temper, who does not love 
jollity, and what they call good neighborhood. A man 
that is out of humor when an unexpected guest breaks in 
upon him, and does not care for sacrificing an afternoon to 
every chance-comer, that will be the master of his own time 
and the pursuer of his own inclinations, makes but a very 
unsociable figure in this kind of life. I shall therefore 
retire into the town, if I may make use of that phrase, and 
get into the crowd again as fast as I can, in order to be 
alone. I can there raise what speculations I please upon 
others without being observed myself, and at the same time 
enjoy all the advantages of company, with all the privileges 
of solitude. In the meanwhile, to finish the month, and 
conclude these my rural speculations, I shall here insert a 
letter from my friend Will Honeycomb, who has not lived 
a month for these forty years out of the smoke of London, 
and rallies me after his way upon my country life. 

" Dear Spec, 

" I suppose this letter will find thee picking of daisies, 
or smelling to a lock of hay, or passing away thy time in 
some innocent country diversion of the like nature. I have 
however orders from the club to summon thee up to town, 



118 The Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

being all of us cursedly afraid tliou wilt not be able to 
relish our company, after thy conversations with Moll 
White and Will Wimble. Pr'ythee do not send us up any 
more stories of a cock and a bull, nor frighten the town 
with spirits and witches. Thy speculations begin to smell 
confoundedly of woods and meadows. If thou dost not 
come up quickl}^, we shall conclude that thou art in love 
with one of Sir Roger's dairy-maids. Service to the knight. 
Sir Andrew is grown the cock of the club since he left us, 
and, if he does not return quickly, Avill make every mother's 
son of us commonwealth's men. 

"Dear Spec, 

" Thine eternally, 

"Will Honeycomb." 
— Addison. 



Spectator No. 132. Wednesday, August 1, 1711 : — The Spectator's 
'^•^ adventures on his journey to town. 

— Qui, aut tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura loquitur, aut se 
ostentat, aut eorum quibuscum est rationem non habet, is ineptus esse 
dicitur. ^j^ ^^ ^^^ jj 4 

Having notified to my good friend Sir Roger that I 
should set out for London the next day, his horses were 
ready at the appointed hour in the evening; and, attended 
by one of his grooms, I arrived at the county town at twi- 
light, in order to be ready for the stage-coach the day 
following. As soon as we arrived at the inn, the servant 
who waited upon me inquired of the chamberlain in my 
hearing what company he had for the coach? The fellow 
answered, "Mrs. Betty Arable the great fortune, and the 
widow her mother; a recruiting officer, (who took a place 



The Captain finds his Match in the Quaker. 119 

because they were to go); young 'squire Quickset her 
cousin, (that her mother wished her to be married to); 
Ephraim the quaker, her guardian; and a gentleman that 
had studied himself dumb from Sir Eoger de Coverley's." 
I observed, by what he said of myself, that according to his 
office he had dealt much in intelligence; and doubted not 
there were some foundation for his reports of the rest of 
the company, as well as for the whimsical account he gave 
of me. The next morning at daybreak we were all called; 
and I, who know my own natural shyness, and endeavored 
to be as little liable to be disputed with as possible, dressed 
immediately, that I might make no one wait. The first 
preparatiou for our setting out was, that the captain's half 
pike was placed near the coachman, and a drum behind the 
coach. In the meantime the drummer, the captain's equi- 
page, was very loud, "that none of the captain's things 
should be placed so as to be spoiled;" upon which his 
cloak-bag was fixed in the seats of the coach : and the cap- 
tain himself, according to a frequent, though invidious 
behavior of military men, ordered his man to look sharp, 
that none but one of the ladies should have the place he 
had taken fronting the coach-box. 

We were in some little time fixed in our seats, and sat 
with that dislike which people not too good natured usually 
conceive of each other at first sight. The coach jumbled us 
insensibly into some sort of familiarity : and we had not 
moved above two miles, when the widow asked the captain 
what success he had in his recruiting? The officer, with 
a frankness he believed very graceful, told her, " that indeed 
he had but very little luck, and had suffered much by deser- 
tion, therefore should be glad to end his warfare in the ser- 
vice of her or her fair daughter. In a word," continued he, 
" I am a soldier, and to be plain is my character : you see 



120 Tlie Sir Roger de Coverley Pajjers. 

me, madam, young, sound, and imprudent; take me your- 
self, widow, or give me to her, I will be wholly at your 
disposal. I am a soldier of fortune, ha! " — This was fol- 
lowed by a vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence of all 
the rest of the company. I had nothing left for it but to 
fall fast asleep, which I did wath all speed. — "Come," 
said he, " resolve upon it, ^ve will make a wedding at the 
next town; we will wake this pleasant companion who is 
fallen asleep, to be the bride-man; and," giving the quaker 
a clap on the knee, he concluded, — " This sly saint, who, 
I'll warrant, understands what is what as well as you or I, 
widow, shall give the bride as father." The quaker, who 
happened to be a man of smartness, answered, — "Friend, 
I take it in good part that thou hast given me the authority 
of a father over this comely and virtuous child; and I must 
assure thee, that if I have the giving her, I shall not bestow 
her on thee. Thy mirth, friend, savoreth of folly: thou 
art a person of a light mind, thy drum is a type of thee, it 
soundeth because it is empty. Verily, it is not from thy 
fulness, but thy emptiness that thou hast spoken this day. 
Friend, friend, we have hired this coach in partnership with 
thee, to carry us to the great city; Ave cannot go any other 
way. This worthy mother must hear thee if thou wilt 
needs utter thy follies ; we cannot help it, friend, I say : if 
thou wilt, we must hear thee; but if thou Avert a man of 
understanding, thou Avouldst not take advantage of thy 
courageous countenance to abash us children of peace, — 
Thou art, thou sayest, a soldier; give quarter to us, who 
cannot resist thee. Why didst thou fleer at our friend, 
Avho feigned himself asleep? He said nothing; but how 
dost thou know what he containeth? If thou speakest 
improper things in the hearing of this virtuous young vir- 
gin, consider it as an outrage against a distressed person 



The Captain finds his Match in the Quaker. 121 

that cannot get from thee; to speak indiscreetly what we 
are obliged to hear, by being hasped np with thee in this 
public vehicle, is in some degree assaulting on the high 
road." 

Here Ephraim paused; and the captain, with a happy 
and uncommon impudence, which can be convicted and sup- 
port itself at the same time, cries, " Faith, friend, I thank 
thee; I should have been a little impertinent, if thou hadst 
not reprimanded me. Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old 
fellow, and I will be very orderly the ensuing part of my 
journey. I was going to give myself airs; but ladies, I 
beg pardon." 

The captain was so little out of humor, and our company 
was so far from being soured by this little ruffle, that 
Ephraim and he took a particular delight in being agree- 
able to each other for the future ; and assumed their different 
provinces in the conduct of the company. Our reckonings, 
apartments, and accommodation, fell under Ephraim; and 
the captain looked to all disputes upon the road, as the 
good behavior of our coachman, and the right we had of 
taking place, as going to London, of all vehicles coming 
from thence. The occurrences we met with were ordinary, 
and very little happened which could entertain by the rela- 
tion of them : but when I considered the company we were 
in, I took it for no small good fortune, that the whole 
journey was not spent in impertinencies, which to the one 
part of us might be an entertainment, to the other a suffer- 
ing. What therefore Ephraim said when we were almost 
arrived at London, had to me an air not only of good under- 
standing, but good breeding. Upon the young lady's ex- 
pressing her satisfaction in the journey, and declaring how 
delightful it had been to her, Ephraim delivered himself as 
follows : — " There is no ordinary part of human life, which 



122 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

expresseth so much a good mind, and a right inward man, 
as his behavior upon meeting with strangers, especially 
such as may seem the most unsuitable companions to him : 
such a man, when he falleth in the way with persons of 
simplicity and innocence, however knowing he may be in 
the ways of men, will not vaunt himself thereof, but will 
the rather hide his superiority to them, that he may not be 
painful unto them. My good friend," continued he, turn- 
ing to the officer, "thee and I are to part by and by, and 
perad venture we may never meet again; but be advised by 
a plain man ; modes and apparels are but trifles to the real 
man, therefore do not think such a man as thyself terrible 
for thy garb, nor such a one as me contemptible for mine. 
When two such as thee and I meet, with affections as we 
ought to have towards each other, thou shouldst rejoice to 
see my peaceable demeanor, and I should be glad to see 
thy strength and ability to protect me in it." — Steele. 



Spectator No. 174. Wednesday, September 19, 1711 : — Sir Andrew 
FreeporL defends commerce ar/ainst the aspersions of Sir Roger. 

Haec meraiui et victum frustra conteudere Thyrsin. 

VIRG. ECL, vii. 69. 

There is scarce anything more common than animosities 
between parties that cannot subsist but by their agreement: 
this was well represented in the sedition of the members of 
the human body in the old Koman fable. It is often the 
case of lesser confederate states against a superior power, 
which are hardly held together, though their unanimity is 
necessary for their common safety, and this is always the 
case of the landed and trading interest of Great Britain: 
the trader is fed by the product of the land, and the landed 



Sir Andrew combats Sir Roger'' s Prejudices. 123 

man cannot be clothed but by the skill of the trader; and 
yet those interests are ever jarring. 

We had last winter an instance of this at our club, in 
Sir Roger de Coverley and Sir Andrew Freeport, between 
whom there is generally a constant, though friendly oppo- 
sition of opinions. It happened that one of the company, 
in an historical discourse, was observing, that Carthaginian 
faith was a proverbial phrase to intimate breach of leagues. 
Sir Roger said it could hardly be otherwise : that the Car- 
thaginians were the grer.test traders in the world; and as 
gain is the' chief end of such a people, they never pursue 
any other: the means to it are never regarded: they will, 
if it comes easily, get money honestly ; but if not, they will 
not scruple to attain it by fraud and cozenage ; and, indeed, 
what is the whole business of the trader's account, but to 
overreach him who trusts to his memory? But were that 
not so, what can there great and noble be expected from 
him whose attention is for ever fixed upon balancing his 
books, and watching over his expenses? And at best, let 
frugality and parsimony be the virtues of the merchant, 
how much is his punctual dealing below a gentleman's 
charity to the poor, or hospitality among his neighbors? 

Captain Sentry observed Sir Andrew very diligent in 
hearing Sir Roger, and had a mind to turn the discourse, 
by taking notice in general, from the highest to the lowest 
parts of human society, there was a secret, though unjust 
way among men, of indulging the seeds of ill-nature and 
envy, by comparing their own state of life to that of another, 
and grudging the approach of their neighbor to their own 
happiness; and on the other side, he, who is the less at his 
ease, repines at the other, who he thinks has unjustly the 
advantage over him. Thus the civil and military list look 
upon each other with much ill-nafcure; the soldier repines 



124 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

at the courtier's power, and the courtier rallies the soldier's 
honor; or, to come to lower instances, the private men of 
the horse and foot of an army, the carmen and coachmen 
in the city streets mutually look upon each other with ill 
will, when they are in competition for quarters or the way 
in their respective motions. 

"It is very well, good Captain," interrupted Sir Andrew: 
"you may attem[)t to turn the discourse if you think fit; 
but I must liowever have a word or two with Sir Eoger, 
who, I see, thinks he has paid me oft', and been very severe 
upon the merchant. I shall not," continued li'e, "at this 
time remind Sir Koger of the great and noble monuments 
of charity and public spirit, which have been erected by 
merchants since the Reformation, but at present content 
myself with what he allows us, parsimony and frugality. 
If it were consistent with the quality of so ancient a baronet 
as Sir Roger, to keep an account, or measure things by the 
most infallible way, that of numbers, he would prefer our 
parsimony to his hospitality. If to drink so many hogs- 
heads is to be hospitable, we do not contend for the fame 
of that virtue; but it would be worth while to consider, 
whether so many artificers at work ten days together by 
my appointment, or so many peasants made merry on Sir 
Roger's charge, are the men more obliged? I believe the 
families of the artificers will thank me, more than the 
household of the peasants shall Sir Roger. Sir Roger gives 
to his men, but I place mine above the necessity or obliga- 
tion of my bounty. I am in very little pain for tlie, Roman 
proverb upon the Carthaginian traders; the Romans were 
their professed enemies; I am only sorry no Carthaginian 
histories have come to our hands: we might have been 
taught perhaps by them some proverbs against the Roman 
generosity, in fighting for, and bestowing, otlier people's 



Sir Andreiu combats Sir Roger's Prejudices. 125 

goods. But since Sir Roger has taken occasion from an old 
proverb, to be out of humor with merchants, it should be 
no offence to offer one not quite so old in their defence. 
When a man happens to break in Holland, they say of him 
that 'he has not kept true accounts.' This phrase, per- 
haps, among us would appear a soft or humorous way of 
speaking, but with that exact nation it bears the highest 
reproach. For a man to be mistaken in the calculation of 
his expense, in his ability to answer future demands, or to 
be impertinently sanguine in putting his credit to too great 
adventure, are all instances of as much infamy, as with 
gayer nations to be failing in courage, or common honesty. 
"Numbers are so much the measure of everything that 
is valuable, that it is not possible to demonstrate the suc- 
cess of any action, or the prudence of any undertaking, 
without them. I say this in answer to what Sir Roger is 
pleased to say, ' that little that is truly noble can be ex- 
pected from one who is ever poring on his cash-book, or 
balancing his accounts.' AVhen I have my returns from 
abroad, I can tell to a shilling, by the help of numbers, the 
profit or loss by my adventure; but I ought also to be able 
to show that I had reason for making it, either from my 
own experience, or that of other people, or from a reason- 
able presumption that my returns will be sufficient to answer 
my expense and hazard; and this is never to be done with- 
out the skill of numbers. For instance, if I am to trade 
to Turkey ; I ought beforehand to know the demand of our 
manufactures there as well as of their silks in England, and 
the customary prices that are given for both in each country. 
I ought to have a clear knowledge of these matters before- 
hand, that I may presume upon sufficient returns to answer 
the charge of the cargo I have fitted out, the freight and 
assurance out and home, the customs to the Queen, and the 



126 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

interest of my own money, and besides all these expenses, 
a reasonable profit to myself. Now, Avhat is there of scan- 
dal in this skill? What has the merchant done, that he 
should be so little in the good graces of Sir Eoger? He 
throws down no man's inclosures, and tramples upon no 
man's corn; he takes nothing from the industrious laborer; 
he pays the poor man for his work; he communicates his 
profit with mankind; by the preparation of his cargo, and 
the manufacture of his returns, he furnishes employment 
and subsistence to greater numbers than the richest noble- 
man; and even the nobleman is obliged to him for finding 
out foreign markets for the produce of his estate, and for 
making a great addition to his rents ; and yet it is certain 
that none of all these things could be done by him without 
the exercise of his skill in numbers. 

"This is the economy of the merchant; and the conduct 
of the gentleman must be the same, unless by scorning to 
be the steward, he resolves the steward shall be the gentle- 
man. The gentleman no more than the merchant, is able, 
without the help of numbers, to account for the success 
of any action, or the prudence of any adventure. If, for 
instance, the chase is his whole adventure, his only returns 
must be the stag's horns in the great hall, and tlie fox's 
nose upon the stable door. Without doubt Sir Eoger knows 
the full value of these returns ; and if beforehand he had 
computed the charges of the chase, a gentleman of his dis- 
cretion would certainly have hanged up all his dogs; he 
would never have brought back so many fine horses to the 
kennel, he would never have gone so often, like a blast, 
over fields of corn. If such too had been the conduct of 
all his ancestors, he might truly have boasted at this day, 
that the antiquity of his family had never been sullied by 
a trade; a merchant had never been permitted with his 



The Cries of London. 127 

whole estate to purchase a room for his picture in the gal- 
lery of the Coverleys, or to claim his descent from the maid 
of honor. But it is very happy for Sir Roger that the 
merchant paid so dear for his ambition. It is the misfor- 
tune of many other gentlemen to turn out of the seats of 
their ancestors to make way for such new masters as have 
been more exact in their accounts than themselves; and 
certainly he deserves the estate a great deal better, who 
has got it by his industry, than he who has lost it by his 
negligence." — Steele. 



Spectator No. 251. Tuesday, December 18, 1711 : — Sir Roger fur- 
nishes the Spectator occasion for discoursing on the cries of London. 



Linguse centum sunt, oraque centum, 



Ferrea vox 

VIRG. ^Ni vi. 025. 

There is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner, and 
frights a country squire, than the cries of London. My 
good friend Sir Roger often declares, that he cannot get 
them out of his head, or go to sleep for them, the first week 
that he is in town. On the contrary. Will Honeycomb calls 
them the ramage de la ville, and prefers them to the sounds 
of larks and nightingales, with all the music of the fields 
and woods. I have lately received a letter from some very 
odd fellow upon this subject, which I shall leave with my 
reader Avithout saying anything further of it. 

*'SlR, 

"I am a man out of all business, and would willingly 
turn my head to anything for an honest livelihood. I have 
invented several projects for raising many millions of money 
without burdening the subject, but I cannot get the parlia- 



128 The Sir Roger de Ooverley Papers. 

ment to listen to me, who look upon me, forsooth, as a 
crack, and a projector; so that despairing to enrich either 
myself or my country by this public spiritedness, I would 
make some proposals to you relating to a design which I 
have very much at heart, and which may procure me a very 
handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased to recommend 
it to the cities of London and Westminster. 

''The post I would aim at, is to be comptroller-general 
of the London Cries, which are at present under no manner 
of rules or discipline. I think I am pretty well qualified 
for this place, as being a man of very strong lungs, of great 
insight into all the branches of our British trades and 
manufactures, and of a competent skill in music. 

"The Cries of London may be divided into vocal and 
instrumental. As for the latter, they are at present under 
a very great disorder. A freeman of London has the privi- 
lege of disturbing a whole street for an hour together, with 
the twanking of a brass-kettle or a frying-pan. The watch- 
man's thump at midnight startles us in our beds, as much 
as the breaking in of a thief. The sowgelder's horn has 
indeed something musical in it, but this is seldom heard 
within the liberties. I would therefore propose, that no 
instrument of this nature should be made use of, which I 
have not tuned and licensed, after having carefully exam- 
ined in what manner it may affect the ears of her majesty's 
liege subjects. 

" Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and indeed so 
full of incongruities and barbarisms, that we appear a dis- 
tracted city to foreigners, who do not comprehend the 
meaning of such enormous outcries. Milk is generally sold 
in a note above E-la, and in sounds so exceeding shrill, that 
it often sets our teeth on edge. The chimney-sweeper is 
confined to no certain pitch ; he sometimes utters himself 



The Cries of London. 129 

ill the deepest bass, and sometimes in the sharpest treble; 
sometimes in the highest, and sometimes in the lowest note 
of the gamnt. The same observation might be made on the 
retailers of small-coal, not to mention broken glasses or 
brick-dust. In these, therefore, and the like cases, it should 
be my care to sweeten and mellow the voices of these itin- 
erant tradesmen, before they make their appearance in our 
streets, as also to accommodate their cries to their -respec- 
tive wares ; and to take care in particular, that those may 
not make the most noise who have the least to sell, which 
is very observable in the venders of card-matches, to whom 
I cannot but apply that old proverb of 'Much cry, but little 
wool.' 

"Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so very loud 
in the sale of these trifling manufactures, that an honest 
splenetic gentleman of my acquaintance bargained with one 
of them never to come into the street where he lived. But 
what was the effect of this contract? Why, the whole tribe 
of card-match-makers which frequent that quarter, passed 
by his door the very next day, in hopes of being bought off 
after the same manner. 

"It is another great imperfection in our London Cries, 
that there is no just time nor measure observed in them. 
Our news should indeed be published in a very quick time, 
because it is a commodity that will not keep cold. It 
should not, however, be cried with the same precipitation 
as fire. Yet this is generally the case. A bloody battle 
alarms the town from one end to another in an instant. 
Every motion of the French is published in so great a hurry, 
that one would think the enemy were at our gates. This 
likewise I would take upon me to regulate in such a manner, 
that there should be some distinction made between the 
spreading of a victory, a march, or an encampment, a Dutch, 



130 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. ISTor must I omit under this 
head those excessive alarms with which several boisterous 
rustics infest our streets in turnip season; and which are 
more inexcusable, because these are wares which are in no 
danger of cooling upon their hands. 

" There are others who affect a very slow time, and are 
in my opinion much more tuneable than the former. The 
cooper. in particular swells his last note in an hollow voice, 
that is not without its harmony ; nor can I forbear being 
inspired with a most agreeable melancholy, when I hear 
that sad and solemn air with which the public are very often 
asked, if they have any chairs to mend? Your own memory 
may suggest to you many other lamentable ditties of the 
same nature, in which the music is wonderfully languishing 
and melodious. 

" I am always pleased with that particular time of the 
year which is proper for the i^ickling of dill and cucumbers; 
but, alas! this cry, like the song of the nightingale, is not 
heard above two months. It would therefore be worth while 
to consider, whether the same air might not in some cases 
be adapted to other words. 

"It might likewise deserve our most serious considera- 
tion, how far, in a well-regulated city, those humorists 
are to be tolerated, who, not contented with the traditional 
cries of their forefathers, have invented particular songs 
and tunes of their own: such as was not many years since, 
the pastry-man commonly known by the name of the Colly- 
Molly-Puff; and such as is at this day the vender of powder 
and wash-balls, who, if I am rightly informed, goes under 
the name of Powder-Watt. 

"I must not here omit one particular absurdity which 
runs through this whole vociferous generation, and which 
renders their cries very often not only incommodious, but 



The Cries of London. 131 

altogether useless to the public. I mean, that idle accom- 
plishment which they all of them aim at, of crying so as 
not to be understood. Whether or no they have learned 
this from several of our affected singers, I will not take 
upon me to say; but most certain it is, that people know 
the wares they deal in rather by their tunes than by their 
words ; insomuch that I have sometimes seen a country boy 
run out to buy apples of a bellows-mender, and gingerbread 
from a grinder of knives and scissors. Nay, so strangely 
infatuated are some very eminent artists of this particular 
grace in a cry, that none but their acquaintance are able to 
guess at their profession; for who else can know, that 'work 
if I had it,' should be the signification of a corn-cutter. 

" Forasmuch therefore as persons of this rank are seldom 
men of genius or capacity, I think it would be very proper 
that some man of good sense and sound judgment should 
preside over these public cries, who should permit none to 
lift up their voices in our streets, that have not tuneable 
throats, and are not only able to overcome the noise of the 
crowd, and the rattling of coaches, but also to vend their 
respective merchandises in apt phrases, and in the most 
distinct and agreeable sounds. I do therefore humbly 
recommend myself as a person rightly qualified for this 
post; and if I meet with fitting encouragement, shall com- 
municate some other projects which I have by me, that 
may no less conduce to the emolument of the public. 

"I am, Sir, &c., 

"Ralph Crotchet." 
Addison. 



132 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 



Spectator No. 269. Tuesday, January 8, 1712 : — Sir Roger in town. 



tEvo rarissima nostro 



Simi)licitas 

OVID. ARS. AM. I. 241. 

I WAS this morning surprised with a great knocking at 
the door, when my landlady's daughter came up to me and 
told me, that there was a man below desired to speak with 
me. Upon my asking her who it was, she told me it was a 
very grave elderly person, but that she did not know his 
name. I immediately went down to him, and found him 
to be the coachman of my worthy friend. Sir E-oger de 
Coverle3^ He told me that his master came to town last 
night, and would be glad to take a turn with me in Gray's- 
Inn walks. As I was wondering with myself what had 
brought Sir Roger to town, not having lately received any 
letter from him, he told me that his master was come up 
to get a sight of Prince Eugene, and that he desired I would 
immediately meet him. 

I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the old 
knight, though I did not much wonder at it, having heard 
him say more than once in private discourse, that he looked 
upon Prince Eugenio (for so the knight always calls him) 
to be a greater man than Scanderbeg. 

I was no sooner come into Gray's-Inn walks, but I heard 
my friend upon the terrace hemming twice or thrice to him- 
self with great vigor, for he loves to clear his pipes in 
good air (to make use of his own phrase), and is not a little 
pleased with any one who takes notice of the strength which 
he still exerts in his morning hems. 

I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the good 
old man who before he saw me was engaged in conversation 
with a beggar man that had asked an alms of him. I could 



Sir Roger in Town. 133 

hear my friend chide him for not finding out some work; 
but at the same time saw him put his hand in his pocket 
and give him sixpence. 

Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, consisting 
of many kind shakes of the hand, and several affectionate 
looks which we cast upon one another. After which the 
knight told me my good friend his chaplain was very well, 
and much at my service, and that the Sunday before he had 
made a most incomparable sermon out of Dr. Barrow. " I 
have left," says he, "all my affairs in his hands, and, being 
willing to lay an obligation upon him, have deposited 
with him thirty marks, to be distributed among his poor 
parishioners." 

He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare of 
Will Wimble. Upon which he put his hand into his fob, 
and presented me in his name with a tobacco-stopper, tell- 
ing me that Will had been busy all the beginning of the 
winter in turning great quantities of them; and that he 
made a present of one to every gentleman in the country 
who has good principles, and smokes. He added, that poor 
Will was at present under great tribulation, for that Tom 
Touchy had taken the law of him for cutting some hazel 
sticks out of one of his hedges. 

Among other pieces of news which the knight brought 
from his country seat, he informed me that Moll White 
was dead, and that about a month after her death the wind 
was so very high that it blew down the end of one of his 
barns. "But for my own part," says Sir Boger, "I do not 
think that the old wo^an had any hand in it." 

He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions which 
had passed in his house during the holidays ; for Sir Eoger, 
after the laudable custom of his ancestors, always keeps 
open house at Christmas. I learned from him, that he had 



134 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

killed eiglit fat hogs for this season; that he had dealt 
about his chines very liberally amongst his neighbors; 
and that in particular he had sent a string of hogs-puddings 
with a pack of cards to every poor family in the parish. 
"I have often thought," says Sir Koger, "it happens very 
well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of winter. 
It is the most dead uncomfortable time of the year, when 
the poor people would suffer very much from their poverty 
and cold, if they had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christ- 
mas gambols to support them. I love to rejoice their poor 
hearts at this season, and to see the whole village merry in 
my great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my 
small beer, and set it a running for twelve days to every 
one that calls for it. I have always a piece of cold beef 
and a mince-pie upon the table, and am wonderfully pleased 
to see my tenants pass away a whole evening in playing 
their innocent tricks, and smutting one another. Our friend 
Will Wimble is as merry as any of them, and shows a thou- 
sand roguish tricks upon these occasions." 

I was very much delighted with the reflection of my old 
friend, which carried so much goodness in it. He then 
launched out into the praise of the late act of parliament 
for securing the Church of England, and told me with great 
satisfaction, that he believed it already began to take effect ; 
for that a rigid dissenter who chanced to dine at his house 
on Christmas day, had been observed to eat very plentifully 
of his plum-porridge. 

After having despatched all our country matters. Sir 
Roger made several inquiries concerning the club, and par- 
ticularly of his old antagonist Sir Andrew Preeport. He 
asked me with a kind of smile, whether Sir Andrew had 
not taken advantage of his absence to vent among them 
some of his republican doctrines; but soon after gathering 



jSir Roger in Toivn. 135 

up his countenance into a more than ordinary seriousness, 
"Tell me truly," says he, "don't you think Sir Andrew had 
a hand in the Pope's procession?" — But without giving 
me time to answer him, "Well, well," says he, "I know 
you are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public 
matters." 

The knight then asked me, if I had seen Prince Eugenio, 
and made me promise to get him a stand in some convenient 
place where he might have a full sight of that extraordinary 
man, whose presence did so much honor to the British 
nation. He dwelt very long on the praises of this great 
general; and I found that, since I was with him in the 
country, he had drawn many observations together out of 
his reading in Baker's Chronicle, and other authors, who 
always lie in his hall window, which very much redound 
to the honor of this prince. 

Having passed away the greatest part of the morning in 
hearing the knight's reflections, which were partly private 
and partly political, he asked me if I would smoke a pipe 
with him over a dish of coffee at Squire's? As I love the 
old man, I take delight in complying with everything that 
is agreeable to him, and accordingly waited on him to the 
coffee-house, where his venerable figure drew upon us the 
eyes of the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself 
at the upper end of the high table, but he called for a clean 
pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a wax candle, and 
the Supplement, with such an air of cheerfulness and good 
humor, that all the boys in the coffee-room (who seemed 
to take pleasure in serving him) were at once employed on 
his several errands, insomuch that nobody else could come 
at a dish of tea, until the knight had got all his con- 
veniences about him. — Addison. 



136 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papei'S. 



Spectator No. 329. Tuesday, March 18, 1712 : — Sir Roger visits 
Westminster Abbey. 

Ire taraen restat Numa quo devenit et Aucus. 

HOR. EP. I. vi. 27. 

My friend Sir Eoger de Coverley told nie t'otlier night, 
that he had been reading my paper upon AVestminster 
Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great many ingenious 
fancies. He told me at the same time, that he observed I 
had promised another paper upon the tombs, and that he 
should be glad to go and see them with me, not having 
visited them since he had read history. I could not at first 
imagine how this came into the knight's head, till I recol- 
lected that he had been very busy all last summer upon 
Baker's Chronicle, which he had quoted several times in 
his disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last coming 
to town. Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next 
morning, that we might go together to the abbey. 

I found the knight under his butler's hands, who always 
shaves him. He was no sooner dressed, than he called for 
a glass of the widow Trueby's Avater, which he told me he 
always drank before he went abroad. He recommended to 
me a dram of it at the same time, with so much heartiness, 
that I could not forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got 
it down, I found it very unpalatable ; upon which the knight, 
observing that I had made several wry faces, told me that 
he knew I should not like it at first, but that it was the 
best thing in the world against the stone or gravel. 

I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted me 
with the virtues of it sooner; but it was too late to com- 
plain, and I knew what he had done was out of good will. 
Sir Roger told me further, that lie looked uj^on it to be very 



Sir Roger in Westminster Ahhey. 137 

good for a man whilst lie stayed in town, to keep off infec- 
tion, and that he got together a quantity of it upon the first 
news of the sickness being at Dantzick : when of a sudden 
turning short to one of his servants, Avho stood behind him, 
he bid him call a hackney coach, and take care it was an 
elderly man that drove it. 

He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's water, 
telling me that the widow Trueby was one who did more 
good than all the doctors and apothecaries in the country; 
that she distilled every poppy that grew within five miles 
of her ; that she distributed her water gratis among all sorts 
of people : to which the knight added that she had a very 
great jointure, and that the whole country would fain have 
it a match between him and her; "and truly,'* says Sir 
Roger, "if I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not 
have done better." 

His discourse was broken off by his man's telling him he 
had called a coach. Upon our going to it, after having cast 
his eye upon the wheels, he asked the coachman if his axle- 
tree was good: upon the fellow's telling him he would 
warrant it, the knight turned to me, told me he looked like 
an honest man, and went in without further ceremony. 

We had not gone far when Sir Eoger, popping out his 
head, called the coachman down from his box, and, upon 
his presenting himself at the window, asked him if he 
smoked. As I was considering what this would end in, he 
bid him stop by the way at any good tobacconist's, and take 
in a roll of their best Virginia. ISTothing material happened 
in the remaining part of our journey, till we were set down 
at the west end of the abbey. 

As we went up the body of the church, the knight pointed 
at the trophies upon one of the new monuments, and cried 
out, "A brave man, I warrant him!" Passing afterwards 



138 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

by Sir Cloudsley Shovel, lie flung his hand that way, and 
cried "Sir Cloudsley Shovel! a very gallant man." As we 
stood before Busby's tomb, the knight uttered himself again 
after the saine manner: "Dr. Busby! a great man: he 
whipped my grandfather; a very great man! I should 
have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead: 
a very great man." 

We were immediately conducted into the little chapel on 
the right hand. Sir Roger, planting himself at our his- 
torian's elbow, was very attentive to everything he said, 
particularly to the account he gave lis of the lord who had 
cut olf the king of Morocco's head. Among several other 
figures, he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil 
upon his knees ; and, concluding them all to be great men, 
was conducted to the figure which represents that mart}^" 
to good housewifery who died by the prick of a needle. 
Upon our interpreter's telling us that she was a maid of 
honor to Queen Elizabeth, the knight was very inquisitive 
into her name and family; and, after having regarded her 
finger for some time, "I wonder," says he, "that Sir 
Eichard Baker has said nothing of her in his Chronicle." 

We were then conveyed to the two coronation chairs, 
where my old friend, after having heard that the stone 
underneath the most ancient of them, which was brought 
from Scotland, was called Jacob's pillar, sat himself down 
in the chair; and, looking like the figure of an old Gothic 
king, asked our interpreter, what authority they had to say 
that Jacob had ever been in Scotland? The fellow, instead 
of returning him an answer, told him, that he hoped his 
honor would X3ay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger 
a little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our guide 
not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon recovered 
his good humor, and Avhispered in my ear, that if Will 



Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey. AS^'i 

Wimble were with us, and saw those two chairs, it would 
go hard but he would get a tobacco-stopper out of one or 
t'other of them. 

Sir E-oger, in the next place, laid his hand upon Edward 
the Third's sword, and leaning upon the pommel of it, gave 
us the whole history of the Black Prince, concluding, that, 
in Sir Eichard Baker's opinion, Edward the Third was one 
of the greatest princes that ever sat upon the English 
throne. 

We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb; upon 
which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he Avas the first who 
touched for the evil: and afterwards Henry the Fourth's; 
upon which he shook his head, and told us there was tine 
reading in the casualties of that reign. 

Our conductor then pointed to that monument where 
there is the figure of one of our English kings without an 
head; and upon giving us to know that the head which was 
of beaten silver, had been stolen away several years since; 
" Some whig, I'll warrant you," says Sir Roger; "you ought 
to lock up your kings better; they will carry off the body 
too, if you don't take care." 

The glorious names of Henry the Fifth and Queen Eliza- 
beth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, and of 
doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our knight 
observed with some surprise, had a great many kings in 
him, whose monuments he had not seen in the abbey. 

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the 
knight show such an honest passion for the glory of his 
country, and such a respectful gratitude to the memory of 
its princes. 

I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good old 
friend, which flows out towards every one he converses 
with, made him very kind to our interpreter, whom he 



140 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

looked upon as an extraordinary man; for which reason 
he shook him by the hand at parting, telling him, that he 
should be very glad to see him at his lodgings in Norfolk- 
buildings, and talk over these matters with him more at 
leisure. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 331. Thursdaj/, March 20, 1712 :— Prompted by a 
remark of Sir Roger, the Spectator writes on heards. 

Stolidam praebet tibi vellere barbam. 

PERS. SAT. ii. 28. 

When I was last with my friend Sir Eoger in West- 
minster Abbey, I observed that he stood longer than ordi- 
nary before the bust of a venerable old man. I was at a 
loss to guess the reason of it; when, after some time, he 
pointed to the figure, and asked me if I did not think that 
our forefathers looked much wiser in their beards than we 
do without them? "For my part," says he, "when I am 
walking in my gallery in the country, and see my ancestors, 
who many of them died before they were of my age, I can- 
not forbear regarding them as so many old patriarchs, and, 
at the same time, looking upon myself as an idle smock- 
faced young fellow. I love to see your Abrahams, your 
Isaacs, and your Jacobs, as we have them in old pieces of 
tapestry, with beards below their girdles, that cover half 
the hangings." The knight added, if I would recommend 
beards in one of my papers, and endeavor to restore human 
faces to their ancient dignity, that, upon a month's warn- 
ing, he would undertake to lead up the fashion himself in 
a pair of whiskers. 

I smiled at my friend's fancy; but, after we parted, could 
not forbear reflecting on the metamorpliosis our faces have 
undergone in this particular. 



A Study of Beards. 141 

The beard, conformable to the notion of my friend Sir 
Koger, was for many ages looked upon as the type of wis- 
dom. Lucian more than once rallies the philosophers of 
his time, who endeavored to rival one another in beards; 
and represents a learned man who stood for a professorship 
in philosophy, as unqualified for it by the shortness of his 
beard. 

^lian, in his account of Zoilus, the pretended critic, who 
wrote against Homer and Plato, and thought himself wiser 
than all who had gone before him, tells us, that this Zoilus 
had a very long beard that hung down upon his breast, but 
no hair upon his head, which he always kept close shaved, 
regarding, it seems, the hairs of his head as so many suckers, 
which, if they had been suffered to grow, might have drawn 
away the nourishment from his chin, and by that means 
have starved his beard. 

I have read somewhere, that one of the popes refused to 
accept an edition of a saint's works, which were presented 
to him, because the saint, in his effigies before the book, 
was drawn without a beard. 

We see by these instances what homage the world has 
formerly paid to beards; and that a barber was not then 
allowed to make those depredations on the faces of the 
learned, which have been permitted him of la,te years. 

Accordingly several wise nations have been so extremely 
jealous of the least ruffle offered to their beards, that they 
seem to have fixed the point of honor principally in that 
part. The Spaniards were wonderfully tender in this par- 
ticular. Don Quevedo, in his third vision of the last judg- 
ment, has carried the humor very far, when he tells us, 
that one of his vainglorious countrymen, after having 
received sentence, was taken into custody by a couple of 
evil spirits; but that his guides happening to disorder his 



142 Tlie Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

mustaclioes, they were forced to recom]30se them with a 
pair of curling-irons before they could get him to file off. 

If we look into the history of our own nation, we shall 
find that the beard flourished in the Saxon heptarchy, but 
was very much discouraged under the Norman line. It 
shot out, however, from time to time, in several reigns 
under different shapes. The last effort it made seems to 
have been in Queen Mary's days, as the curious reader may 
find, if he pleases to peruse the figures of Cardinal Pole and 
Bishop Gardiner : though, at the same time, I think it may 
be questioned, if zeal against popery has not induced our 
protestant painters to extend the beards of these two perse- 
cutors beyond their natural dimensions, in order to make 
them appear the more terrible. 

I find but few beards worth taking notice of in the reign 
of King James the First. 

During the civil wars there appeared one, which makes 
too great a figure in story to be passed over in silence : I 
mean that of the redoubted Hudibras, an account of which 
Butler has transmitted to posterity in the following lines. — 

" His tawuy beard was th' equal grace 
Both of his wisdom and liis face ; 
In cut and dye so like a tile 
A sudden view it would beguile : 
The upper part thereof was whey, 
The nether orange mixed with grey." 

The whisker continued for some time among us after the 
expiration of beards; but this is a subject which I shall 
not here enter upon, having discussed it at large in a dis- 
tinct treatise, which I keep by me in manuscript, upon the 
mustachoe. 

If my friend Sir Roger's project of introducing beards 
should take effect, I fear the luxury of the present age 



Sir Roger at the Theatre. 143 

would make it a very expensive fashion. There is no 
question but the beaus would soon provide themselves with 
false ones of the lightest colors, and the most immoderate 
lengths. A fair beard of the tapestry size, which Sir Roger 
seems to approve, could not come under twenty guineas. 
The famous golden beard of ^sculapius would hardly be 
more valuable than one made in the extravagance of the 
fashion. 

Besides, we are not certain that the ladies would not 
come into the mode, when they take the air on horseback. 
They already appear in hats and feathers, coats, and peri- 
wigs; and I see no reason why we may not suppose that 
they would have their riding-beards on the same occasion. 

N. B. I may give the moral of this discourse in another 
paper. — Budgell. 



Spectator No. 335. Tuesday, March 25, 1712 : — Sir Roger goes to 

the play. 

Respicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo 
Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces. 

HOR. ARS POET. 317. 

My friend Sir Roger de Coverley, when we last met 
together at the club, told me that he had a great mind to 
see the new tragedy with me, assuring me at the same time, 
that he had not been at a play these twenty years. "The 
last I saw," said Sir Roger, "was The Committee, which I 
should not have gone to neither, had not I been told before- 
hand that it was a good church of England comedy." He 
then proceeded to inquire of me who this distressed mother 
was; and upon hearing that she was Hector's widow, he 
told me that her husband was a brave man, and that when 
he was a school-boy he had read his life at the end of the 



144 The Sir Roger de Coverlet/ Papers. 

dictionary. My friend asked me, in the next place, if there 
would not be some danger in coming home late, in case the 
Mohocks should be abroad. "I assure you," says he, "I 
thought I had fallen into their hands last night; for I 
observed two or three lusty black men that followed me 
half way up Fleet-street, and mended their pace behind me, 
in proportion as I put on to get away from them. You must 
know," continued the knight with a smile, "I fancied they 
had a mind to hunt me ; for I remember an honest gentle- 
man in my neighborhood, who was served such a trick in 
King Charles the Second's time, for which reason he has 
not ventured himself in town ever since. I might have 
shown them very good sport, had this been their design : for 
as I am an old fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodged, 
and have played them a thousand tricks they had never seen 
in their lives before." Sir Roger added, "that if these 
gentlemen had any such intention, they did not succeed very 
well in it ; for I threw them out, " says he, " at the end of 
Norfolk-street, where I doubled the corner, and got shelter 
in my lodgings before they could imagine what was become 
of me. However," says the knight, " if Captain Sentry will 
make one with us to-morrow night, and if you will both of 
you call upon me about four o'clock, that we may be at the 
house before it is full, I will have my own coach in readi- 
ness to attend you; for John tells me he has got the fore 
wheels mended." 

The captain, who did not fail to meet me there at the 
appointed hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for he had put 
on the same sword which he made use of at the battle of 
Steenkirk. Sir Roger's servants, and among the rest my 
old friend the butler, had, I found, provided themselves 
with good oaken plants, to attend their master upon this 
occasion. When we had placed him in his coach, with 



Sir Roger at the Theatre. 145 

myself at his left hand, the captain before him, and his 
butler at the head of his footmen in the rear, we convoyed 
him in safety to the playhouse, where, after having marched 
up the entry in good order, the captain and I went in with 
him, and seated him betwixt us in the pit. As soon as the 
house was full, and the candles lighted, my old friend stood 
up, and looked about him with that pleasure which a mind 
seasoned with humanity naturally feels in itself, at the sight 
of a multitude of people who seem pleased with one another, 
and partake of the same common entertainment. I could 
not but fancy to myself, as the old man stood up in the 
middle of the pit, that he made a very proper centre to a 
tragic audience. Upon the entering of Pyrrhus, the knight 
told me, that he did not believe the king of France himself 
had a better strut. I was indeed very attentive to my old 
friend's remarks, because I looked upon them as a piece of 
natural criticism, and was well pleased to hear him, at the 
conclusion of almost every scene, telling me that he could 
not imagine how the play would end. One while he appeared 
much concerned for Andromache; and a little while after 
for Hermione; and was extremely puzzled to think what 
would become of Pyrrhus. 

When Sir Roger saw Andromache's obstinate refusal to 
her lover's importunities, he whispered me in the ear, that 
he was sure she would never have him; to which he added, 
with a more than ordinary vehemence, "You can't im- 
agine, sir, what it is to have to do with a widow." Upon 
Pyrrhus's threatening afterwards to leave her, the knight 
shook his head, and muttered to himself, "Ay, do if you 
can." This part dwelt so much upon my friend's imagina- 
tion, that at the close of the third act, as I was thinking of 
something else, he whispered me in my ear, " These widows, 
sir, are the most perverse creatures in the world. But 



146 The Sir Hoijer de Coverley Papers, 

pray," says he, "you that are a critic, is the play according 
to yoiir dramatic rules, as you call them? Should your 
people in tragedy always talk to be understood? Why, 
there is not a single sentence in this play that I do not 
know the meaning of." 

The fourth act very luckily began before I had time to 
give the old gentleman an answer. "Well," says the 
knight, sitting down with great satisfaction, "I suppose 
we are now to see Hector's ghost." He then renewed his 
attention, and, from time to time, fell a praising the widow. 
He made, indeed, a little mistake as to one of her pages, 
whom at his first entering he took for Astyanax; but 
quickly set himself right in that particular, though, at the 
same time, he owned he should have been glad to have seen 
the little boy, who, says he, must needs be a very fine child 
by the account that is given of him. Upon Hermione's 
going off with a menace to Pyrrhus, the audience gave a 
loud clap, to which Sir Koger added, "On my word, a 
notable young baggage." 

As there was a very remarkable silence and stillness in 
the audience during the whole action, it was natural for 
them to take the opportunity of these intervals between the 
acts, to express their opinion of the players, and of their 
respective parts. Sir Eoger, hearing a cluster of them 
praise Orestes, struck in with them, and told them, that he 
thought his friend Py lades was a very sensible man. As 
they were afterwards applauding Pyrrhus, Sir Eoger put 
in a second time. " And let me tell you," says he, " though 
he speaks but little, I like the old fellow in Avhiskers as 
well as any of them." Captain Sentry, seeing two or three 
wags who sat near us lean with an attentive ear towards 
Sir Roger, and fearing lest they should smoke the knight, 
plucked him by the elbow, and whispered something in his 



Tl^iU Honeycomb's Adventures. 147 

ear, that lasted till the opening of the fifth act. The knight 
was wonderfully attentive to the account which Orestes 
gives of Pyrrhus's death, and, at the conclusion of it, told 
me it was such a bloody piece of work, that he was glad it 
was not done upon the stage. Seeing afterwards Orestes 
in his raving fit, he grew more than ordinarily serious, and 
took occasion to moralize (in his way) upon an evil con- 
science, adding, that Orestes, in his madness, looked as if 
he saw something. 

As we were the first that came into the house, so we were 
the last that went out of it; being resolved to have a clear 
passage for our old friend whom we did not care to venture 
among the justling of the crowd. Sir Eoger went out fully 
satisfied with his entertainment, and we guarded him to 
his lodging in the same manner that we brought him to the 
playhouse; being highly pleased, for my own part, not only 
with the performance of the excellent piece which had been 
X^resented, but with the satisfaction which it had given to 
the old man. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 359. Tuesday, April 22, 1712: — News from The 
Widoio leads Will Honeycomh to relate Ms adventures. 

Torva letena lupum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam : 
Floreiitem cytisum sequitui- lasciva capella. 

VIRG. ECL. ii. 63. 

As we were at the club last night, I observed that my 
old friend Sir Eoger, contrary to his usual custom, sat very 
silent, and, instead of minding what was said by the com- 
pany, was whistling to himself in a very thoughtful mood, 
and playing with a cork. I jogged Sir Andrew Freeport, 
who sat between us ; and, as we were both observing him, 
we saw the knight shake his head, and heard him say 



148 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

to himself, "A foolish woman! I can't believe it." Sir 
Andrew gave him a gentle pat npon the shonlder, and 
offered to lay him a bottle of wine that he was thinking of 
the widow. My old friend started, and recovering out of 
his brown study, told Sir Andrew, that once in his life he 
had been in the right. In short, after some little hesita- 
tion, Sir Roger told us in the fulness of his heart, that he 
had just received a letter from his steward, which acquainted 
him that his old rival and antagonist in the country, Sir 
David Dundrum, had been making a visit to the widow. 
" However," says Sir Roger, "I can never think that she'll 
have a man that's half a year older than I am, and a noted 
republican into the bargain." 

Will Honeycomb, who looks upon love as his particular 
province, interruptiug our friend with a jaunty laugh, "I 
thought, knight," says he, "thou liadst lived long enough 
in the world, not to pin thy happiness upon one that is a 
woman, and a widow. I think that, without vanity, I may 
pretend to know as much of the female world as any man 
in Great Britain, though the chief of my knowledge con- 
sists in this, that they are not to be known," Will imme- 
diately, with his usual fluency, rambled into an account of 
his own amours. "I am now," says he, "upon the verge 
of fifty " (though by the way we all knew he was turned 
of threescore). "You may easily guess," continued Will, 
"that I had not lived so long in the world without having 
had some thoughts of settling in it, as the phrase is. To 
tell you truly, I have several times tried my fortune that 
way, though I cannot much boast of my success. 

"I made my first addresses to a young lady in the coun- 
try; but, when I thought things were pretty well drawing 
to a conclusion, her father happening to hear that I had 
formerly boarded with a surgeon, the old put forbad me 



Will HoneycomKs Adventures. 149 

his house, and within a fortnight after married his daughter 
to a fox-hunter in the neighborhood. 

" I made my next application to a widow, and attacked 
her so briskly, that I thought myself within a fortnight of 
her. As I waited upon her one morning, she told me, that 
she intended to keep her ready money and jointure in her 
own hand, and desired me to call upon her attorney in 
Lyon's Inn, who would adjust with me what it was proper 
for me to add to it. 1 was so rebuffed by this overture, 
that I never inquired either for her or her attorney after- 
wards. 

'' A few months after, I addressed myself to a young lady 
who was an only daughter, and of a good family. I danced 
with her at several balls, squeezed her by the hand, said 
soft things to her, and in short made no doubt of her heart ; 
and, though my fortune was not equal to hers, I was in 
hopes that her fond father would not deny her the man she 
had fixed her affections upon. But as I went one day to 
the house, in order to break the matter to him, I found the 
whole family in confusion, and heard, to my unspeakable 
surprise, that Miss Jenny was that very morning run away 
with the butler. 

" I then courted a second widow, and am at a loss to this 
day how I came to miss her, for she had often commended 
my person and behavior. Her maid indeed told me one 
day, that her mistress said she never saw a gentleman with 
such a spindle pair of legs as Mr. Honeycomb. 

''After this I laid siege to four heiresses successively; 
and, being a handsome young dog in those days, quickly 
made a breach in their hearts; but I don't know how it 
came to pass, though I seldom failed of getting the daugh- 
ter's consent, I could never in my life get the old people 
on my side. 



150 The Sir Roger de Coverlet/ Papers. 

" I could give you an account of a thousand other unsuc- 
cessful attempts, particularly of one which I made some 
years since upon an old woman, whom I had certainly borne 
away with flying colors, if her relations had not come 
pouring in to her assistance from all parts of England; 
nay, I believe, I should have got her at last, had she not 
been carried off by a hard frost." 

As Will's transitions are extremely quick, he turned from 
Sir Eoger, and, applying himself to me, told me there was 
a passage in the book I had considered last Saturday, Avhich 
deserved to be writ in letters of gold: and, taking out a 
pocket Milton, read the following lines, which are part of 
one of Adam's speeches to Eve after the fall. — 

" Oh! why did God, 



Creator wise ! that peopled highest heav'n 

With spirits masculine, create at last 

This novelty on earth, this fair defect 

Of nature, and not fill the world at once 

With men, as angels, without feminine, 

Or find some other way to generate 

Mankind? This mischief had not then hefall'n, 

And more that shall befall, innumerable 

Disturbances on earth, through female snares, 

And straight conjunction with this sex: for either 

He never shall find out fit mate, but such 

As some misfortune brings him, or mistake : 

Or, whom he wishes most, shall seldom gain. 

Through her perverseness ; but shall see her gain'd 

By a far worse : or if she love, withheld 

By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 

Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound 

To a fell adversary, his hate or shame : 

Which infinite calamity shall cause 

To human life, and household peace confound." 

Sir Roger listened to this passage with great attention ; 
and, desiring Mr. Honeycomb to fold down a leaf at the 
place, and lend him his book, the knight put it up in his 



Sir Roger at Vauxhall Gardens. 151 

pocket, and told us that he would read over those verses 
again before he went to bed. — Badgell. 



Spectator No. 383. Tuesdaij, May 20, 1712: — Sir Roger and the 
Spectator go by water to Vauxhall Gardens. 

Criminibns debent hortos 

juv. SAT. i. 75. 

As I was sitting in my chamber, and thinking on a sub- 
ject for my next Spectator, I heard two or three irregular 
bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the opening of it, 
a loud cheerful voice inquiring whether the philosopher 
was at home. The child who went to the door answered 
very innocently that he did not lodge there. I immediately 
recollected that it was my good friend Sir Koger's voice, 
and that I had promised to go with him on the water to 
Spring-garden, in case it x^roved a good evening. The 
knight put me in mind of my promise from the bottom of 
the staircase, but told me that if I was speculating, he 
would stay below till I had done. Upon my coming down, 
I found all the children of the family got about my old 
friend; and my landlady herself, who is a notable prating 
gossip, engaged in a conference with him; being mightily 
pleased with his stroking her little boy on the head, and 
bidding him be a good child and mind his book. 

We were no sooner come to the Temple-stairs, but we 
were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offering us their 
respective services. Sir Roger, after having looked about 
him very attentively, spied one with a wooden leg, and 
immediately gave him orders to get his boat ready. As we 
were walking towards it, " You must know," says Sir Eoger, 
"I never make use of anybody to row me, that has not 



152 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

either lost a leg or an arm. I would rather bate him a few 
strokes of his oar than not employ an honest man that has 
been wounded in the queen's service. If I was a lord or a 
bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a fellow in my 
livery that had not a wooden leg." 

My old friend, after having seated himself, and trimmed 
the boat with his coachman, who being a very sober man, 
always served for ballast on these occasions, we made the 
best of our way for Vauxhall. Sir Roger obliged the water- 
man to give us the history of his right leg; and, hearing 
that he had left it at La Hogue, with many particulars 
which passed in that glorious action, the knight, in the 
triumph of his heart, made several reflections on the great- 
ness of the British nation: as, that one Englishman could 
beat three Frenchmen ; that we could never be in danger of 
popery so long as we took care of our fleet; that the Thames 
was the noblest river in Europe; that London-bridge was 
a greater piece of work than any of the seven wonders of the 
world; with many other honest prejudices which naturally 
cleave to the heart of a true Englishman. 

After some short pause, the old knight, turning about his 
head twice or thrice, to take a survey of this great me- 
tropolis, bid me observe how thick the city was set with 
churches, and that there was scarce a single steeple on this 
side Temple-bar. "A most heathenish sight!" says Sir 
Roger: "there is no religion at this end of the town. Tlie 
fifty new churches will very much mend the prospect : but 
church work is slow, church work is slow." 

I do not remember that I have anywhere mentioned in 
Sir Roger's character, his custom of saluting everybody 
that passes by him with a good-morrow, or a good-night. 
This the old man does oiii; of the overflowings of his human- 
ity, though at the same time it renders him so popular 



Sir Roger at Vauxhall Gardem, 153 

among all his country neighbors, that it is thought to have 
gone a good way in making him once or twice knight of the 
shire. He cannot forbear this exercise of benevolence even 
m town, when he meets with any one in his morning or 
evening walk. It broke from him to several boats that 
passed by us on the water; but to the knight's great sur- 
prise, as he gave the good-night to two or three youn- 
fellows a little before our landing, one of them, instead of 
returning the civility, asked us what queer old put we had 
in tlie boat; with a great deal of the like Thames-ribaldry 
feir Eoger seemed a little shocked at first, but at length 
assuming a face of magistracy, told us, that if he were a 
Middlesex .^astice, he would make such vagrants know that 
her majesty's subjects were no more to be abused by water 
than by land. 

We were now arrived at Spring-garden, which is exqui- 
sitely pleasant at this time of the year. When I considered 
the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, with the choirs of 
birds that sung upon the trees, and the loose tribe of people 
that walked under their shades, I could not but look upon 
the place as a kind of Mahometan paradise. Sir Roo-er told 
me. It put him in mind of a little coppice by his house in 
the country, which his chaplain used to call an aviary of 
nightingales. "You must understand," says the knight 
'there is notliing in the world that pleases a man in love 
so mucli as your nightingale. Ah, Mr. Spectator, the many 
moon-hght nights that I have walked by myself, and thought 
on the widow by the music of the nightingale! " He here 
fetched a deep sigh, and was falling into a lit of musing 
when a mask, who came behind him, gave him a gentle tap 
upon the shoulder, and asked him, if he would drink a 
bottle of mead with her? But the knight, being startled 
at so unexpected a familiarity, and displeased to be inter- 



154 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, 

rupted in his thoughts of the widow, told her she was a 
wanton baggage; and bid her go about her business. 

We concluded our walk with a glass of Burton ale, and 
a slice of hung beef. When we had done eating ourselves, 
the knight calls a waiter to him, and bid him carry the 
remainder to the waterman that had but one leg. I per- 
ceived the fellow stared upon him at the oddness of the 
message, and was going to be saucy; upon which I ratified 
the knight's commands with a peremptory look. — Addison. 



Spectator No. 517. Thursday, October 23, 1712:— The death of 

Sir Roger. 

Heu pietas ! heu prisca fides ! 

viRG. MS. vi. 878. 

We last night received a piece of ill news at our club, 
which very sensibly afflicted every one of us. I question 
not but my readers themselves will be troubled at the hear- 
ing of it. To keep them no longer in suspense, Sir Roger 
de Coverley is dead. He departed this life at his house in 
the country, after a few weeks sickness. Sir Andrew Free- 
port has a letter from one of his correspondents in those 
parts, that informs him the old man caught a cold at the 
county sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an 
address of his own penning, in which he succeeded accord- 
ing to his wishes. But this particular comes from a whig 
justice of peace, who was always Sir Roger's enemy and 
antagonist. I have letters both from the chaplain and 
Captain Sentry, which mention nothing of it, but are filled 
with many particulars to the honor of the good old man. 
I have likewise a letter from the butler, who took so much 
care of me last summer when I was at the knight's house. 



The Death of Sir Roger. 155 

As my friend the butler mentions, in the simplicity of his 
heart, several circumstances the others have passed over in 
silence, I shall give my reader a co^Dy of his letter, without 
any alteration or diminution. 

"Honored Sir, 

"Knowing that you was my old master's good friend, T 
could not forbear sending you the melancholy news of his 
death, which has afflicted the whole country, as well as his 
poor servants, who loved him, I may say, better than we 
did our lives. I am afraid he caught his death the last 
county sessions, where he would go to see justice done to a 
poor widow woman, and her fatherless children, that had 
been wronged by a neighboring gentleman; for you know. 
Sir, my good master was always the poor man's friend. 
Upon his coming home, the first complaint he made was, 
that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not being able to 
touch a sirloin, which was served up according to custom : 
and you know he used to take great delight in it. Erom 
that time forward he grew worse and worse, but still kept 
a good heart to the last. Indeed we once were in great 
hope of his recovery, upon a kind message that was sent 
him from the widow lady whom he had made love to the 
forty last years of his life ; but this only proved a lightning 
before death. He has bequeathed to this lady, as a token 
of his love, a great pearl necklace, and a couple of silver 
bracelets set with jewels, which belonged to my good old 
lady his mother. He has bequeathed the fine white gelding 
that he used to ride a hunting upon, to his chaplain, because 
he thought he would be kind to him, and has left you all 
his books. He has, moreover, bequeathed to the chaplain 
a very pretty tenement, with good lands about it. It being 
a very cold day when he made his will, he left for mourning 



156 The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. 

to every man in the parish, a great frieze coat, and to every 
woman a black riding-hood. It was a most moving sight 
to see him take leave of his poor servants, commending us 
all for our fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a word 
for weeping. As we most of us are grown grey-headed in 
our dear master's service, he has left us pensions and lega- 
cies, which we may live very comfortably upon the remain- 
ing part of our days. He has bequeathed a great deal more 
in charity, which is not yet come to my knowledge, and it 
is peremptorily said in the parish, that he has left money 
to build a steeple to the church; for he was heard to say 
some time ago, that, if he lived two years longer, Coverley 
Church should have a steeple to it. The chaplain tells 
everybody that he made a very good end, and never speaks 
of him without tears. He Avas buried, according to his own 
directions, among the family of the Coverleys, on the left 
hand of his father Sir Arthur. The coffin was carried by 
six of his tenants, and the pall held up by six of the 
quorum. The whole parish followed the corpse with heavy 
hearts, and in their mourning suits ; the men in frieze, and 
the women in riding-hoods. Captain Sentry, my master's 
nephew, has taken possession of the Hall-house, and the 
whole estate. When my old master saw him a little before 
his death, he shook him by the hand, and wished him joy 
of the estate which was falling to him, desiring him only 
to make a good use of it, and to pay the several legacies, 
and the gifts of charity, which he told him he had left as 
quit-rents upon the estate. The captain trul}^ seems a 
courteous man, though he says but little. He makes much 
of those whom my master loved, and shows great kindness to 
the old house dog, that you know my poor master was so 
fond of. It would have gone to your heart to have heard 
the moans the dumb creature made on the day of my master's 



The Death of Sir Roger. 157 

death. He has never joyed himself since; no more has any 
of us. It was the melancholiest day for the poor people 
that ever happened in Worcestershire. This being all from, 
"Honored Sir, 

" Your most sorrowful servant, 

"Edward Biscuit. 
"P.S. — M}^ master desired, some weeks before he died, 
that a book, which comes up to you by the carrier, should 
be given to Sir Andrew Freeport in his name." 

This letter, notwithstanding the poor butler's manner of 
writing it, gave us such an idea of our good old friend, that 
upon the reading of it there was not a dry eye in the club. 
Sir Andrew opening the book, found it to be a collection of 
acts of parliament. There was in particular the Act of 
Uniformity,, with some passages in it marked by Sir Eoger's 
own hand. Sir Andrew found that they related to two or 
three points which he had disputed with Sir Roger the last 
time he appeared at the club. Sir Andrew who would have 
been merry at such an incident on another occasion, at the 
sight of the old man's handwriting burst into tears, and 
put the book into his pocket. Captain Sentry informs me 
that the knight has left rings and mourning for every one 
in the club. — Addison. 



NOTES. 



p. 1. Spectator No. 1. The motto : His (i.e. Homer's) plan is, not 
to give us first a flash and tlien smoke, but out of smoke to bring forth 
light, that thence he may produce dazzling marvels. 

I have observed, etc. Though the fictitious personage represented 
in this paper as describing himself has many striking points of resem- 
blance to Joseph Addison, yet the reader must guard against the 
mistake of supposing that the Spectator is Addison. The Spectator 
is an imaginary person, created by Addison and Steele ahd their 
coadjutors. The writer of each paper, whoever he may be, assumes 
the role of Mr. Spectator, and speaks in this character, using the first 
person singular. Thus the modern journalistic plural we stands for 
no one individual, but for the paper, as an impersonal institution. 

This imaginary Spectator is a member of an imaginary club, of 
which he is the spokesman. In this paper he is made to give an 
account of himself, and in the next to describe his fellow-members. 
The first of these papers is by Addison, the second by Steele, though both 
papers appear as coming from Mr. Spectator. The fiction that a plan 
of the work " is laid and concerted in a club " serves to add the interest 
of mystery to the undertaking, and to furnish occasion for descriptions 
of manners and humors. Of course the plan of the work was really 
laid and concerted by Addison and Steele. The writers who now and 
then aided them were men who had caught the spirit of the fiction, 
and were thus able to join the enterprise as partners in the work of 
invention and creation. 

The young reader may find cause of confusion in the fact that the 
name Spectator is given to the entire collection of papers written under 
this pseudonym, and that the several papers are also called Spectators. 

a black or a fair man. It was formerly customary to couple the 
words black and fair as opposites, meaning merely dark or light in 

159 



160 Notes [Page 2 

complexion. See Shakespeare, Sonn. 147 ; Rom. and Jul. I. i. 237 ; 
0th. I. iii. 291. See also other instances of this use of black in 
Murray's Dictionary, 

P. 2. I distinguish myself by a most profound silence. This 
character Mr. Spectator is consistently represented as maintaining 
throughout the series of papers. But nothing could be more inappli- 
cable either to Addison or to Steele : both were good talkers. 

P. 3. On the coffee-houses and the theatres of the time the reader 
may profitably consult Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne, by 
John Ashton. Remember that English life in the early eighteenth 
century is correctly portrayed in these papers. The coffee-houses are, 
ill name as well as in character, the actual coffee-houses of London ; 
the life the personages lead is the actual English life of the period ; 
and even the members of the club, historically non-existent, are exact 
pictures of Queen Anne types. 

P. 4. points which I have not spoken to. How would a 
writer of the present day express himself here ? You will occasionally 
lind the Spectator's idiom slightly different from the usage of to-day. 
Now and then you will come upon a word now lost. Consider that it 
is nearly two centuries since this paper was written, and that language 
is perpetually changing. 

P. 5. I may make discoveries. Note at once that the words 
discover and discovery in the last-century English are frequently to be 
understood as meaning reveal and revelation. Compare discoveries as 
used in this paragraph with the same word in preceding one. Then 
draw your inferences, and put yourself on the lookout for further 
illustration of the double usage. ^.^-^ 

P. 6. Spectator No. 2. The motto : But half a dozen more also 
cry out together with one voice. 

The second Spectator, the reader will note, is by Steele. It is 
Steele, therefore, who, in formally introducing all the subordinate 
members of the Spectator Club, after Mr, Spectator has introduced 
himself in the opening paper, first makes us acquainted with Sir Roger 
de Coverley. By no means, however, does it follow from this fact 
that Steele was in any sense the originator of Sir Roger. The series 
of papers called the Spectator is the result of the more or less close 
collaboration of two gifted men, either of whom could, at least at the 
outset, while the ideas of both were still somewhat vague, have taken 
in hand any character to the satisfaction of the other. Addison hav- 



Page 10] Notes. 161 

ing written the first paper, the second naturally fell in turn to Steele. 
Sir Roger is, in fact, as the reader will see, the creation of Addison. 
Steele's contribution to the development of this most interesting 
fictitious personage is insignificant. Were his two or three papers 
whose main theme is Sir Roger entirely omitted from the de Coverley 
series, the character of the Knight would lose nothing in distinctness, 
but would gain in nobility. 

When he is in town he lives in Soho Square. So much of 
English fiction lays its scene in actual London, that the student of 
literature, hardly less than the student of history or biography, must 
acquaint himself with the streets and squares of the great city. A 
most useful book for this purpose is Hare's Walks in London. 

Lord Rochester, Sir George Etheridge, Bully Dawson, may be 
looked up in the biographical dictionaries and in the complete editions 
of the Spectator, e.g. Morley's. It is impossible, however, to miscon- 
ceive their characters from the passages where their names occur. 

P. 10. humorists. The meaning of this word, as here used, may 
be inferred from the context. Would it be understood to-day in this 
sense ? Note its signification when you meet it agani. 

The Spectator Club, we now see, consists of seven persons, with 
Mr. Spectator as sole mouth-piece : the six members described in this 
paj)er come to speech only through him, except that, here and there, 
they are made, like other fictitious correspondents, to appear as writers 
of letters, (^f these six club-members only one is destined to become 
memorable. Planted as seeds in the Spectatorial garden, they found 
themselves — all but one — in a soil unsuited to a rich development of 
interesting personal qualities, and failed to take strong root. Steele 
here makes a pretty paper : but as a table of dramatis personce, his list 
is abortive. The Club, as such, is to remain as a simple convenience, 
without essential significance as an element of a dramatic plan. 

We shall hardly more than once hear again of the Templar and the 
Clergyman. Sir Andrew Freeport appears somewhat more frequently, 
always as a lay figure of an upright merchant, used to point a moral : 
as an interesting personality he has no important standing in the 
series of Spectators. 

Captain Sentry has a factitious importance as nephew to Sir 
Roger, whom he succeeds at last in the ownership of the de Coverley 
estate. The captain is another lay figure, and stands for the modest 
soldier. 



162 Notes. [Page 12 

Will Honeycomb is a figure of decidedlj^ greater importance, and 
he is always amusing. He is a ladies' man, good-natured and con- 
ceited, ignorant and knowing, given to fits of abstraction. Vain of 
his prowess among women, he at last, when some sixty years old, 
marries a farmer's daughter. Will comes the nearest to being 
a conceivable personality of all the subordinate members of the 
Club. 

In the company of Sir Roger de Coverley, however, Mr. Spectator 
finds himself very much at home. This means that Addison saw in 
Sir Roger the possibilities of such humorous treatment as was suited 
to his own genius. He dwells on the Knight as on a topic that he 
loves, recurring to it again and again. He visits Sir Roger in the 
country, and sees him among his dependents : he receives a visit from 
Sir Roger in London. Thus the de Coverley theme links together in 
a sort of artistic unity a number of the Spectator papers, and Sir 
Roger becomes a distinct figure, — one of the prime favorites of English 
fiction. 

P. 12. Spectator No. 6. The motto : They thought it a great 
impiety, and one to be expiated by death, if a young man had not 
risen up in honor of an old man. 

With regard to this excellent paper of Steele's, note two things : — 
its lofty moral tone, and its absurd use of the name of Sir Roger. 
Is the impressiveness of the moralizing enhanced by thus making the 
moralist one of whom we as yet know next to nothing? Shall we 
come to know the Knight better for hearing him preach ? Consider 
why Steele should have brought Sir Roger into such an essay. 

P. 16. Spectator No. 34. The motto : A wild beast of like kind 
spares his kindred spots. 

the liberties I had taken with the opera and the puppet-show. 
Refer, in any complete Spectator, to Nos. 5 and 14. 

P. 17. the city had always been the province for satire. "The 
city" is here used in its special London sense. See Murray's Dic- 
tionary, City, 5, h. See also Baedeker's London. 

P. 19. the Roman triumvirate. See Shakespeare's Jul. Caesar, 
IV. i. 

If Punch grows extravagant. The puppet-show was a favorite 
amusement with the Londoners of Addison's time. Evidently the 
Spectator thought that Punch, from the language he used on the stage, 
might come to need chasten ino;. 



Page 27] Notes. 163 

III this witty and wholesome paper Sir lioger appears quite on a 
level with his confreres. He has the prejudices of his class : he belongs 
to the landed gentry. It is to the clergyman that Addison gives the 
moral superiority over the rest. From the clergyman all are willing 
to accept rebuke. 

P. 20. Spectator No. 87. The motto : She with woman's hands 
unused to the distaff and the baskets of Minerva. 

Leonora's library consists of books actually known at the time as 
being popular with ladies. Many of them are standard classics, which 
will always be known. Note that Addison puts into the library Steele's 
Christian Hero. Steele's character had many sides, and this book of 
his, the Christian Hero, represents one of them ; while the duel he 
fought shortly after its publication represents another. — It would be 
interesting to inquire what sort of book Leonora had for an English 
dictionary. Students of English had yet forty-four years to wait for 
Johnson. — Locke on the Human Understanding was used as a school- 
book well into this century. — Of Baker's Chronicle we are to hear 
again. 

P. 24. The promise made in the last paragraph is kept in Specta- 
tor No. 92. 

And still we get only a glimpse of Sir lioger. Surely, it is by a 
liberal canon of selection that we include in this series the paper on 
Leonora's library. 

P. 25. Spectator No. 106. The motto : Hence abundance with horn 
of plenty shall flow for thee to the full, rich in the glories of the country. 

P. 20. he is pleasant upon any of them. The meaning of 
"pleasant" as here used is not given in Webster, but may be easily 
inferred. Consider the noun, pleasantry. 

P. 27. this cast of mind, etc. The young reader must learn 
betimes to make his account with the peculiarities of the Addisonian 
Syntax, and must recognize that in many points usage has changed. 
Moreover, while Addison's English is easy and graceful, and his style 
fascinating by its delicacy and transparency, he is not by any means, 
as a writer, always correct. 

At last Messrs. Steele and Addison have sent Mr. Spectator in quest 
of matter to Sir Koger's country house. Now begin the de Coverley 
essays proper. Remember, Sir Roger is a humorist in the eighteenth- 
century sense, while Addison is a humorist in the modern meaning of 
the word. Learn to relish Addison's humor. 



164 Notes. [Page 29 

P, 29. Spectator No. 107. The motto : The Athenians set up a 
mighty statue to ^sop, and placed on its eternal base a slave, that all 
might know that the way of honor lies open. 

here they industriously place themselves in his way. The 
word industrioiisly is here used in a sense somewhat different from its 
present one, and corresponds precisely with the Latin de industrial 
meaning |)?<)7)ose/?/, or on purposo. See it so used again on p. 52. 

P. 32. took off the dress he was in; i.e. raised him from the 
condition of servant. 

Could you, by any peculiarity of style, or by any absence of humor, 
or by any difference in the kind of humor, distinguish this paper from 
the preceding in respect to authorship ? Do Steele and Addison seem 
to you to write precisely alike ? It may be said that no two writers 
have in all respects the same manner of writing. The more one reads, 
the more clearly one perceives peculiarities of style. We must learn 
to like diverse sorts of writers. Steele is good in his way, and Addi- 
son is good in his. 

Spectator No. 108. The motto : Panting to no purpose ; in doing 
many things doing nothing. 

P. 34. a setting dog that he has ' made ' himself. So Antonio 
in the Tempest, sneering at Gonzalo, says, — I myself could make a 
chough of as deep chat. 

joy which his guest discovered. Who is it that feels and shows 
this joy ? See note on I may make discoveries, Spectator No. 1. 

P. 30. my twenty-first speculation means of course Spectator 
No. 21. By all means look up this paper. 

Note the art with which Addison, even while bringing forward 
Will Wimble as an example to be avoided, makes us take a loving 
interest in the man. This power in a writer is precisely what is meant 
in the modern sense, by humor. Addison belongs among our great 
humorists, — in the class with Chaucer, Shakespeare, Fielding, Sterne. 
Very different writers, like Milton and AYordsworth, we must also 
learn to love, though for other qualities than humor. 

Spectator No. 109. The motto : An unschooled philosopher. 

P. 38. Sir Eoger's white-pot, as described in the antiquarian 
books, was " a dish made of cream, sugar, rice, currants, cinnamon, 
etc." But coming to New England, the name — always, in both 
countries, pronounced ichit-pot — came to be applied to a very much 
simpler dish, wholesome for children, now indeed disused, or existing 



Page 48] Notes. 165 

under other names, but still pleasantly remembered by some who 
were children forty or fifty years ago. 

P. 39. I saw my friend a little embarrassed. The young reader 
may need to be told that Sir Roger's embarrassment is caused by his 
sense of the disgrace which his family suffered in accepting aid from 
a member of it who had acquired wealth as a citizen, i.e. in trade. 
Sir Roger's "but nothing at all akin to us" must not be taken 
seriously. The dense prejudice of the English landed aristocracy 
against trade is one of the British foibles upon which the Spectator 
indulges his pleasantry. 

P. 40. Spectator No. 110. The motto : Everywhere my sense is 
scared by the horror, scared by the very stillness. 

Should we to-day speak of elms -which are shot up, or of ruins 
that are scattered on every side ? What is the grammatical 
distinction between these expressions ? Could we now say, My 
friend desired me not to venture myself in it after sunset, for 
that one of the fodtmen had been almost frightened out of his 
■wits ? If you object to this expression, modernize it and give your 
reasons. 

P. 42. In what sense are the horrors of the night supernumerary ? 

What seems to be the opinion as to the reality of ghosts in which 
Mr. Addison would have us consider Mr. Spectator as finally resting ? 
Should we be justified, from anything we may read in the Spectator, 
in forming conclusions as to the opinions of Addison and Steele ? 

P. 45. Spectator No. 111. The motto: Among the groves of 
Academus to seek the truth. 

P. 47. That cherubim. In Addison's time the distinction be- 
tween cherub as a singular, and cherubim as the plural of the same 
word, had not found lodgment even in the literary language. Mil- 
ton, many years before, had used the words frequently, and always 
correctly. It seems strange that Addison, who was a student of 
Milton, should be capable of writing that cherubim, which now ax>pears 
as a god. 

This is in no sense a de Coverley paper, and has no other title to 
be treated as such, than that it professes to record meditations which 
occurred to Mr. Spectator during a walk in Sir Roger's grounds. 

The essay is a good specimen of Addison in his serious vein. 

P. 48. Spectator No. 112. The motto : Honor first the immortal 
Gods, according to established law and custom. 



166 Notes. [Bage 49 

P. 49. to converse upon indifferent subjects. Thik must 
mean, — upon subjects ou which the country -people have ncj differ- 
ences, referring solely to religious matters. Parish politick would 
hardly be so described. 

railed in the communion table. A careless, inattentivq reader 
has been known to assign the word in to tlie wrong part of Speech. 
What new and hideous humor would this manner of reading ascribe 
to Sir Roger ? 

P. 50. are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his 
behavior. What is the meaning here oi polite? 

P. 52. Spectator No 113. The motto : Her features remain 
imprinted on his breast. 

P. 53. with a murrain to her. See Tempest III. ii. 88 ; Corio- 
lanus I. V. 3. 

Pp. 54, 56. Note the idioms now obsolete : the sheriff loas become 
a slave. — wer-e she like other women., and that there loere amj talking 
to her. If you have French enough, put both these phrases into that 
language. 

P. 57. The words quoted from Martial, "which one knows not 
how to render into English," may, on a pinch, be translated, — his 
very silence is eloquent of her. 

Do not fail to observe the authorship of this paper. As you read 
on, take notice of the various phases of Sir Roger's character that fall 
to each writer, and draw conclusions as to the tastes of the two men. 

Spectator No. 114. The motto : Shame and loathing of poverty. 

P. 58. his estate is dipped : that is, mortgaged. 

P. 59. he would save four shillings in the pound : that is, by 
diminishing his possession of land, he would save so much land-tax. 

P. 60. Cowley's "great vulgar." To his essay On Greatness 
Cowley appends a free translation of Horace's ode, Odi iorofamim 
vulgus et arceo, of which the first two lines are as follow : 

Hence, ye profane ; I hate ye all ; 
Both the great vulgar, and the small. 

Of moral essays as excellent in manner and in matter as this the 
Spectator contains many scores. At present Mr. Spectator is at Sir 
Roger's, and his speculations naturally emanate from that quarter. 

P. 61. Spectator No. 115. The motto: That you may have a 
sound mind in a sound body. 



Page 67] Notes. ' 167 

P. 62, ferments the humors. This is an instance of the word 
humors used in the medical sense, now obsolete. We are constantly 
hearing, in the older authors, of the four humors of the body. See 
the note under this word in Webster. Ajax, in Troilus and Cressida, 
referring to Achilles, says, Fll let his humors hlood. But the purely 
physical and the mental senses of the word are constantly mingling, 
and cannot always be distinguished. 

P. 64. old age came on. We know, of course, just how old 
Sir Roger is. Was the eighteenth-century conception of old age the 
same that prevails to-day ? How old, in 1711, were Joseph Addison 
and Richard Steele ? How old were Swift, Pope, De Foe ? At what 
age did Dryden, Milton, Isaac Walton, die ? How are we to under- 
stand Mr. Spectator's application of " old age " to Sir Roger? 

P. 65. Spectator No. 116. The motto: Cithc^ron and the hounds 
of Taygetus call with full cry. 

In this very pleasing and animated paper we make acquaintance 
with Eustace Budgell. You will find it interesting to look up the 
two papers, Nos. 67 and 77, which Budgell has already written. In 
one of these he discourses of dancing ; in the other he presents AVill 
Honeycomb as a reveur or a distrait, who pockets a pebble he has 
picked up and tKrows his watch into the Thames. Budgell contrib- 
uted in all to the Spectator thirty-seven papers, attaining thus his 
sole literary distinction. Two more of the papers in this series, Nos. 
331 and 359, are from his pen. But twenty-six years old when he 
began to write for the Spectator, Budgell showed himself at once 
the master of a style of such Addisonian quality that, were it not 
for the signatures to his papers, the world might not have suspected 
his participation in the editorial partnership. Boswell reports John- 
son as saying that "Addison wrote BudgelPs papers, or at least 
mended them so much that he made them almost his own." But 
for this confident dictum Johnson had probably no better authority 
than the inconclusive testimony drawn from comparison of the styles 
of the tvvo men. 

P. 67. upon the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad. 
Young readers have actually been known to understand tliis offer as 
referring to some kind of saddle ! 

The verses with which the paper closes are from Dryden's Epistle 
To My Honored Kinsman, John Driden ; they are worth looking up 
for the sake of a few strong lines. 



168 • Notes. [Page 71 

P. 71. Spectator No. 117. The motto: They make their own 
dreams. 

P. 72. I believe in general, etc. Remember, it is Mr. Spectator, 
and not Addison, that is speaking. Addison chooses not to let 
Mr. Spectator boldly disavow a belief in witchcraft. Addison's own 
disbelief in it is abundantly inferable from the spirit of this very paper. 
It is a pleasant instance of the Addisonian humor thus to imagine a 
man as professing belief in witchcraft in general while refusing cre- 
dence to all reports of concrete cases. 

It becomes interesting to consider whether, in 1711, belief in witch- 
craft was generally entertained by educated men. Recall the date of 
the latest outbreak of the delusion in New England. Ascertain from 
any history of witchcraft, or from the article on this subject in the 
Encyclo. Brit., when the last witch-trials were held in England. See 
Knight's Popular History, Vol. V., p. 430. 

P. 75. Spectator No. 118. The motto : The deadly reed sticks in 
his side. 

Which of the two writers, Steele or Addison, invents for Sir Roger 
the more probable and credible adventures ? Which of them would 
have made the better novel of modern life ? In this paper, does 
Sir Roger's sudden introduction of the names Orestilla and Themista 
seem to you to be natural to a man in his state of mind ? William 
and Betty, we must allow, make a concrete case, which the imagina- 
tion can at once grasp, and which therefore awakens a certain interest. 
But consider whether the names Orestilla and Themista have the 
greater effect to embellish or to confuse the story. 

P. 79. Spectator No. 119. The motto : The city they call Rome, 
Melibceus, I foolishly thought similar to this village of ours. 

The essay gives a pleasant picture of Sir Roger's embarrassment in 
placing his guests at table. Is it not clear that a Lady de Coverley 
was very much needed in that household ? 

P. 82. The promise of the last paragraph is made good in No. 129. 

P. 83. Spectator No. 120. The motto : I can believe, indeed, that 
they have inspiration from heaven. 

P. 88. Spectator No. 121. The motto : All things are full of Jove. 

These two papers really constitute one long one, divided for con- 
venience. Sir Roger is in no sense the subject of them, though they 
may be said to belong, in a certain .sense, to a Sir Roger series, as 
picturing to us the philosophic Spectator, wandering thoughtfully and 



Page 108] Notes. 169 

alone about the Knight's grounds, and finally sitting down to meditate 
among the poultry. The papers are well worth reading for their own 
sake. 

P. 93. Spectator No. 122. The motto : A pleasant companion on 
the road is as good as a carriage. 

a yeoman. It is impossible for an American to appreciate fully 
the connotations of this purely English word without considerable 
reading in the. literature of the old country. Besides looking up the 
definitions in the dictionaries, read also the chapter on the Yeomen, 
in Boutmy's English Constitution. Read Thomas Fuller on The Good 
Yeoman, Craik's English Prose, II. 381. 

P. 94. within the Game Act. A little reading will explain this 
expression. See, e.g.., the last paragraph of Chap. IV., Vol. VIII., of 
Knight's History, and the passage from Blackstone there quoted. 

P. 95. admiring his courage that was not afraid. This con- 
struction of the pronouns, now obsolete, soon becomes familiar to 
readers of English as old as the eighteenth century. 

Reverence for the judicial dignity still subsists in England to a 
degree that is startling to an American. Respect for the law and for 
the representatives of the law is an Anglo-Saxon trait that should be 
cherished in every possible way. 

P. 97. Spectator No. 123. The motto : But education enhances 
native force, and right exercise strengthens the breast ; however defec- 
tive conduct has come to be, and however faults mar what was well born. 

Again a Spectator with but very little of Sir Roger. Have we not 
here a love story in which, at last, the course of true love does run 
smooth ? Could anything be nicer ? 

P. 102. Spectator No. 125. The motto : Do not, boys, do not 
make such great wars familiar to your minds : do not turn your mighty 
strength against your country's vitals. 

P. 104. that great rule. See Luke vi. 27. 

P. 105. the taking any scandalous story. Wherein is this Eng- 
lish defective from the modern point of view ? How would you cor- 
rect it ? 

P. 107. Spectator No. 126. The motto : Whether Trojan or Rutu- 
lian shall make no difference to me. 

P. 108. I remember to have read, etc. Look up, in some book 
of natural history, the facts about the ichneumon, and learn whether 
he is as disinterested an animal as Diodorus represents him. 



170 JSfoteH. [Page 109 

P. 109. necessary for the keeping up his interest. Show the 
faultiness of this passage. We still find such English, but are wont to 
condemn it as incorrect. 

What recent events in English history had brought the politics of 
the nation into the condition of turbulence described in this paper and 
in No. 125 ? 

P. 111. Spectator No. 130. The motto : It is ever their delight to 
bring together fresh booty, and to live on plunder. 

In a few pages serving as introduction to his book on the gypsies 
of Spain, George Borrow gives a very readable account of the gypsies 
of England. On all gypsy matters Borrow is an authority, for he 
passed, among the gypsies, as one of their number. Far too few per- 
sons know how interesting his books are. 

P. 115. Spectator No. 131. The motto : Ye forests, too, once 
more, farewell. 

P. 116. he wishes Sir Roger does not harbor. Comment on 
the disappearance of this form of phrase from our speech. 

P. 118. stories of a cock and a bull. We are more used to the 
phrase in the form, cock-and-bull stories. * 

The authors find it time to bring Mr. Spectator back to London : 
the attempt to give to every paper some sort of Sir Roger flavor is 
evidently growing tedious. 

Spectator No. 132. The motto : He who either does not see what 
the time demands, or who says more than he should, or who makes a 
display of himself, or who pays no heed to the quality of those with 
whom he is, is called a fool. 

Are you fully satisfied with the English of the first sentence of this 
paper ? You must of course approve Steele's use of the word notified 
with the preposition to. This is the correct use even to-day. If you 
find occasion for making correction, it will be in another matter. 

It is a pity that in this farewell to the de Coverley mansion we get 
no account of the parting with the Knight. It is pleasant, however, to 
hear Mr. Spectator described as " a gentleman that had studied himself 
dumb." 

P. 122. Spectator No. 174. The motto : These verses I remember, 
and that the vanquished Thyrsis vainly strove. 

The old Roman fable relating the sedition of the members of 
the human body is Menenius Agrippa's well-known fable of the 
Belly and tlie Members, best told in Coriolanus I. 1. 



Page 135] Notes, 171 

r. 123. In the Roman writers occurs the phrase Punica fides, or 
Carthaginian faith, signity'mg perfidy. 

Do you consider that Steele here presents Sir Roger in a pleasing 
character ? 

P. 127. Spectator No. 251. The motto : There are a hundred 
tongues, a hundred mouths, an iron voice, 

A good specimen of Addisonian playfulness, with the slightest 
possible touch of Sir Roger. 

P. 128. Milk is generally sold in a note above E- la. " E- la 
was the highest note in the Gamut, or the highest note of the 7th 
Hexachord of Guido, answering to the upper E in the treble." 
Murray's New Oxford Dictionary. 

P. 132. Spectator No. 269. The motto: Simplicity, a virtue in our 
age most rare. 

Prince Eugene. See Knight's History, opening of Chap. XXV., 
Vol. V. 

Was Scanderbeg, in the Spectator's time, a recent hero ? 

P. 134. smutting one another. See the Deserted Village, line 27. 

the late Act of Parliament. This was the law against Occasional 
Conformity, passed in 1711. See the histories, or the Encyclo. Brit., 
Vol. VIII., pp. 353, 354. 

P. 135. the Pope's Procession. See Knight's History, Vol. V., 
p. 377. The Pope's Procession was a mock affair, in which a ritual 
of the Catholic Church was coarsely and indecently ridiculed. It 
took place November 17, commemorating the accession of Queen 
Elizabeth. 

Baker's Chronicle was a popular English history of the time. It 
was written some seventy years before the appearance of the Specta- 
tor. It is still to be seen in libraries. 

He called for the Supplement. It would be interesting to know, 
were it possible, just what sort of paper was known at Squire's under 
the name of the Supplement. Perhaps Squire's regularly "took in " 
a paper published only once or twice a week. Such papers are known 
to have issued Supplements, or, as we should say, extras, whenever 
important news came in during the intervals of publication. The 
English newspaper, in the reign of Anne, was in its early stage, but 
was having a rapid development. The dissemination of news, in the 
pr?e-newspaper age, is an interesting subject for research. You may 
look it up in II. R. Fox Bourne's English Newspapers. 



172 Notes. [Page 136 

P. 136. Spectator No. 329. The motto: It still remains to go 
whither Numa and Ancus have gone. 

P. 137. the sickness at Dantzic. This was understood, prob- 
ably, of the plague of 1704, which ravaged a large part of North Ger- 
many and Scandinavia, and was feared in England. 

P. 138. Sir Cloudsley Shovel was drowned in the wreck of his 
ship off the Scilly Islands in 1707. 

On the lord w^ho had cut off the King of Morocco's head, and 
on that martyr to good housewifery, see Hare's Walks in Lon- 
don, II., p. 257. 

On the two Coronation Chairs. See Hare, II., p. 303. 

P. 139. he w^as the first who touched for the evil. See 
Macbeth IV. iii. See also Macaulay's History, Chap. XIV., towards 
the end, 

one of our English kings without a head. See Hare, II., 
pp. 300-302. 

P. 140. Spectator No. 331. The motto : Does he offer thee a silly 
beard to pluck ? 

Budgell writes a sprightly paper on beards, allowing Sir Roger to 
appear for a moment by way of introduction. 

P. 143. Spectator No. 335. The motto: I shall bid the well- 
taught imitator to contemplate a living model of character, and thence 
to draw lani;nage true to the life. 

the Committee : a play by Sir Robert Howard, one of the minor 
comic dramatists of the Restoration. 

this distressed mother. The Distressed Mother was a play by 
Ambrose Philips, founded on Racine's tragedy of Andromaque. 

P. 144. the Mohocks. See Ashton's Social Life in the reign of 
Queen Anne. See also Spectators 324 and 347, and Chap. III. of 
Macaulay's History. 

P. 146. lest they should smoke the Knight. So Parolles, in 
All's Well : they begin to smoke me. See Webster's Diet. 

P. 147. Spectator No. 359. The motto : The fierce lioness chases 
the wolf ; the wolf himself the kid ; the wanton kid seeks the clover 
bloom. 

the book I had considered last Saturday. On each successive 
Saturday from January 5 to May 3, 1712, Addison wrote a Spectator 
on Milton's Paradise Lost. These papers constitute a body of criticism 
which the serious student of literature still does well to read. Masson 



Page 154] Notes. 173 

speaks slightingly of the value of these essays, and of their influence 
on the popularity of the poet. Still they are readable, both for Mil- 
ton's sake and for Addison's. 

P. 151. Spectator No. 383. The motto : To their crimes they are 
indebted for their gardens. 

Vauxliall Gardens, otherwise called Spring Gardens, was a popu- 
lar place of resort on the Surrey side of the Thames. The name 
Vauxhall — anciently spelled Fox-Hall, and always to be so pro- 
nounced — still persists in London as the name of a bridge, a railway 
station, and a street. See Hare's Walks, 11., p. 422. 

P. 152. La Hogue. See Macaulay's History, Chap. XVIII. 

The fifty new churches. Parliament had just voted, in 1710, to 
build fifty churches in Westminster and the other districts outside the 
city proper. As Sir Roger, in going from the Temple Stairs to Vaux- 
hall, passed up the river, his expression, this side Temple Bar, must 
have reference to Westminster. The City had already been well pro- 
vided with churches, since the fire of 1606, under the superintendence 
of Sir Christopher Wren. 

P. 153. -what queer old put we had in the boat. See the word 
put in the Century Dictionary. Pronounce it to rime with but. 

P. 154. Spectator No. 517. The motto : Alas for his piety, for his 
ancient faith ! 

The Spectator's comment on the Butler's letter, notwithstanding 
the poor Butler's manner of w^riting it, is quite unworthy of Addi- 
son, who, of course, should have made the Spectator say, rather, — 
by virtue of his manner of writing it. To offer readers any explana- 
tion of the Butler's language is to insult their intelligence. 

From the Vauxhall paper. No. 383, to No. 517, is a long leap. Once, 
in the early part of this interval, Steele had taken Sir Roger in hand, 
presenting him in a new, disagreeable, and disgraceful light, that 
must, to Addison, have been intolerably odious. From this series, for 
the sake both of decency and of unity, the paper is omitted. It is 
quite thinkable that Steele showed signs of wishing to recur to the Sir 
Roger topic in his own peculiar way ; that Addison did not readily fall 
. upon any new phases of adventure or character that befitted his con- 
ception of the Knight ; and that, to save this conception from further 
depredations, the only resource was to put an end to Sir Roger's life. 

In No. 544, Steele makes Captain Sentry, now proprietor of the de 
Coverley estate, write to the Spectator a letter, which is, in part, 



174 Notes. [Page 154] 

devoted to reminiscence of Sir Roger's peculiarities, and to comment 
upon his character. One of Steele's motives in writing this letter was 
obviously to make for himself an opportunity to offer to readers of the 
Spectator something like an apology for the way in which he had dealt 
with Sir Roger. It is pleasing thus to see Steele, as he takes leave of 
Sir Roger, acknowledging that his contribution to the de Coverley 
portraiture had marred the outlines sketched by the greater artist, 
Addison. 



ENGLISH. 



Studies in English Composition. 

By Harriet C. Keeler, High School, Cleveland, Ohio, and Emma 
C. Davis, Cleveland, Ohio. i2mo, cloth, 210 pages. Price, 80 cents. 

THIS book is the outgrowth of experience in teaching compo- 
sition, and the lessons which it contains have all borne the 
actual test of the class-room. Intended to meet the wants of 
those schools which have composition as a weekly exercise in 
their course of study, it contains an orderly succession of topics 
adapted to the age and development of high school pupils, to- 
gether with such lessons in language and rhetoric as are of con- 
stant application in class exercises. 

The authors believe that too much attention cannot be given 
to supplying young writers with good models, which not only 
indicate what is expected, and serve as an ideal toward which 
to work, but stimulate and encourage the learner in his first 
efforts. For this reason numerous examples of good writing 
have been given, and many more have been suggested. 

The primal idea of the book is that the pupil learns to write 
by writing ; and therefore that it is of more importance to get 
him to write than to prevent his making mistakes in writing. 
Consequently, the pupil is set to writing at the very outset ; the 
idea of producing something is kept constantly uppermost, and 
the function of criticism is reserved until after something has 
been done which may be criticised. 

J. W. Stearns, Professor of Pedagogy, University of Wisconsi7i : It strikes 
me that the author of your " Studies in English Composition " touches 
the gravest defect in school composition work when she writes in her pref- 
ace : " Or.e may as well expect a sea-anemone to show its beauty when 
grasped in the hand, as look for originality in a child, hampered by the 
conviction that every sentence ha writes will be dislocated in order to be 
improved." In order to improve the beauty of the body we drive out the 
soul in our extreme formal criticisms of school compositions. She has 
made a book which teaches children to write by getting them to write 
often and freeiy; and if used with the spirit which has presided over the 
making of it, it will prove a most effective instrument for the reform of 
school composition work, 

Albert G. Owen, Superintendent, Afton, Iowa : It is an excellent text. I 
am highly pleased with it. The best of the kind I have yet seen. 



ENGLISH. 



Composition-Rhetoric for Use in Secoftdary 
Schools. 

By Professors F. N. ScoTT, of the University of Michigan, and J. V. 
Denney, of Ohio State University. i2mo, cloth, 370 pages. Price, 
^i.oo. 

IN the preparation of this work the authors have been guided 
by three considerations. 

First, it is desirable that a closer union than has hitherto 
prevailed be brought about between secondary composition and 
secondary rhetoric. The rhetoric which is found in this book is 
meant to be the theory of the pupil's practice. 

Second, it is desirable in secondary composition that greater 
use be made of the paragraph than has hitherto been done. In 
this book the paragraph is made the basis of a systematic method 
of instruction. 

A third idea which underlies the work is the idea of growth. 
A composition is regarded not as a dead form, to be analyzed 
into its component parts, but as a living product of an active, 
creative mind. 

In working out these ideas, care has been taken to provide 
illustrative material of a kind that should be thought-provoking, 
interesting, and valuable in itself, but not too far above the 
standard of literary practice. 

Professor Sophie C. Hart, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. : As a whole 
I consider it the best book on English Composition for the preparatory 
school, and shall recommend it to all teachers who send students to 
Wellesley. 

Superintendent Mark S. W. Jefferson, Lexington, Mass. : The only rational 
book on the subject that I know. Apart from the practical manner of 
approaching the subject, I am delighted with the material chosen for the 
illustration of principles ; pupils will find enjoyment in every paragraph. 

Miss Harriet L. Mason, Drexel Institute, Philadelphia, Pa. : I find it all 
that I could wish. The book fills a unique place in English text-books, 
and is in the very van of the best teaching of composition. I shall use it 
during the coming year. 

Professor Robert Herrick, University of Chicago, Chicago, III.: It is really 
a long stride in the right direction. It throws overboard much use- 
less rubbish contained in the secondary school rhetoric, and teaches 
explicitly how to get material, how to arrange it, and how to present it. 



ENGLISH. 



Paragrap h - Writing. 



By Professor F. N. ScOTT, University of Michigan, and Professor J. 
V. Denney, Ohio State University. i2mo, 304 pages. Price, ^i.oo. 

THE principles embodied in this work were developed and 
put in practice by its authors at the University of Michigan 
several years ago. Its aim is to make the paragraph the basis of 
a method of composition, and to present all the important facts 
of rhetoric in their application to it. 

In Part I. the nature and laws of the paragraph are presented; 
the structure and function of the isolated paragraph are discussed, 
and considerable space is devoted to related paragraphs ; that is, 
those which are combined into essays. 

Part II. is a chapter on the theory of the paragraph intended 
for teachers and advanced students. 

Part III. contains copious material for class work, selected 
paragraphs, suggestions to teachers, lists of subjects for composi- 
tions (about two thousand), and helpful references of many kinds. 

The Revised Edition contains a chapter on the Rhetoric of 
the Paragraph, in which will be found applications of the para- 
graph-idea to the sentence, and to the constituent parts of the 
sentence, so far as these demand especial notice. The new mate- 
rial thus provided supplies, in the form of principles and illustra- 
tions, as much additional theory as the student of Elementary 
Rhetoric needs to master and apply, in order to improve the 
details of his paragraphs in unity, clearness, and force. 

Professor J. M. Hart, Cortiell University : The style of the writers is admi- 
rable for clearness and correctness. . . . They have produced an uncom- 
monly sensible text-book. . . . For college work it will be hard to beat. 
I know of no other book at all comparable to it for freshman drill. 

Professor Charles Mills Gayley, University of California : Paragraph- 
Writing is the best thing of its kind, — the only systematic and exhaustive 
effort to present a cardinal feature of rhetorical training to the educational 
world. 

The Dial, March, 1894 : Paragraph- Writing is one of the really practical 
books on English composition. ... A book that successfully illustrates 
the three articles of the rhetorician's creed, — theory, example, and practice. 



ENGLISH. 



From Milton to Tennyson. 

Masterpieces of English Poetry. Edited by L. Du PON r SyI-E, Uni- 
versity of California. i2mo, clotli, 480 pages. Price, $1,00. 

IN this work the editor has endeavored to bring together within 
the compass of a moderate-sized volume as much narrative, 
descriptive, and lyric verse as a student may reasonably be re- 
quired to read critically for entrance to college. From the 
nineteen poets represented, only such masterpieces have been 
selected as are within the range of the understanding and the 
sympathy of the high school student. Each masterpiece is 
given complete, except for pedagogical reasons in the cases of 
Thomson, Cowper, Byron, and Browning. Exigencies of space 
have compelled the editor reluctantly to omit Scott from this 
volume. The copyright laws, of course, exclude American poets 
from the scope of this work. 

The following poets are represented : — 

MILTON, by the L'Allegro, II Penseroso, Lycidas, and a Selection from the Sonnets. 

DRYDEN . . EpistletoCongreve, Alexander's Feast, Character of a Good Parson. 

POPE .... Epistles to Mr. Jervas, to Lord Burlington, and to Augustus. 

THOMSON . . Winter. 

JOHNSON . . Vanity of Human Wishes. 

GRAY .... Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, and The Bard. 

GOLDSMITH . Deserted Village. 

COWPER . . Winter Morning's Walk. 

BURNS . . . Cotter's Saturday Night, Tam O'Shanter, and a Selection from the 

Songs. 
COLERIDGE . Ancient Mariner. 
BYRON . . . Isles of Greece, and Selections from Childe Harold, Manfred, and 

the Hebrew Melodies. 
KEATS . . . Eve of St. Agnes, Ode to a Nightingale, Sonnet on Chapman's 

Homer. 
SHELLEY . . . Euganean Hills, The Cloud, The Skylark, and the Two Sonnets 

on the Nile. 
WORDSWORTH Laodamia, The Highland Girl, Tintern Abbey, The Cuckoo, The 

Ode to a Skylark, The Milton Sonnet, The Ode to Duty, and 

the Ode on the Intimations of Immortality. 
MACAULAY . Horatius. 
CLOUGH . . . Two Ships, the Prologue to the Mari Magno, and the Lawyer's 

First Tale. 
ARNOLD . . The Scholar-Gypsy and the Forsaken Merman. 
BROWNING , Transcript from Euripides (Balaustion's Adventure). 
TENNYSON . CBnone, Morte D'Arthur, The Miller's Daughter, and a Selection 

from the Songs. 



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